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kooktrash · 10 months

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his special secret II | kim taehyung

summary: getting into a relationship with your professor was never in your agenda. you knew it was wrong on some level but it was hard to think of that when he made you feel so good. now it’s been some time since you got together and the secrets are slowly unraveling but who says it’s all bad?

➢ genre/au: college art professor!tae x art student!y/n [she/her… afab] [age gap 9 years]

➢ 13.5k words

warnings: smüt. secret relationship. tae is 30, y/n is 21. oral [f]. make out. groping. tae is divorced. both got cheated on in past. jealous tae. dirty talk. makeout in art closet. y/n is confident but going thru it. professor x student. missionary. tae’s ex finds out and she’s a bitch. y/n is kinda closed off but works on opening up to him. tae thinks everything y/n does is cute. changed it so Namjoon is the ex. fluff ending

THIS IS THE FINAL PART. read part one

You felt utterly ridiculous. You know you agreed to dress as a bunny tonight but clearly you didn’t think things through.

One, it’s kind of cold. You’re at a house party but with everyone going in and out, windows open, ie, you’re cold. The costume was an extremely vague definition of a bunny costume. You were dressed in mostly black, a simple black mini skirt with faux black fur on the hem, a black top, back bunny ears and tail. You even had gloves that turned to mittens if you flipped them up and it made them look like paws. You just weren’t dressed warmly.

Two, you’ve been hit on a lot more than usual. It’s probably the fact that everyone’s drunk at this point and you’re wearing very little clothes. Usually you would play along, never giving in, but you know… playing nice. If the conversation went well then you would get more involved but tonight you couldn’t do that. No, you won’t do that. You and Taehyung… you’re dating but also not? It’s a very tricky situation yet it also made perfect sense. It’s lowkey, the lowest of lows but that didn’t mean you could flirt with people right? That’s why you’re slightly uncomfortable being hit on tonight—probably because of this stupid bunny costume.

“We look so fucking stupid,” you groaned as you chuffed back your drink fully in hopes of getting drunk enough that you won’t think about it.

“It’s all Jungkook’s fault.”

“Woah! I thought this was a classy party so let’s not point fingers now,” Jungkook said in pink bunny ears because he thought it would be so funny dressing like a bunny. In reality he had no costume and Bora was between choosing pink or white and when she decided on white Jungkook was stuck with the pink. He begged you to trade but you had an entire outfit already so you weren’t going to now.

His hands were up in surrender,

“Jungkook, it’s your fault. We were only supposed to be bunnies, you could’ve done literally anything else,” Bora said, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

“That would’ve looked so stupid Bora, are you dumb? Three bunnies at least makes it look like we planned this all ahead for pictures — which we need to take soon,” Jungkook said pointing at you two.

“Whatever you want to do, let's do it now because I’m not staying long,” you said as you typed away on your phone. You have been talking to Taehyung for a while through text and he will be coming for you soon.

“Why?” Bora asked as she twirled a piece of your hair between her fingers casually throwing in a compliment about how nice it looked.

“I’ve got work tomorrow and I have assignments to do,” you said as you locked your phone and put it down.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “It’s late as hell, you’re not gonna do assignments.”

You looked back at him with a poker face, “I have to try.”

“Y/n, you bullshitting me?” He asked with an amused expression.

“Probably.”

“Are you seeing someone?” He asked skeptically. All the signs are there, he's just trying not to jump to conclusions.

“I already told you no,” you rolled your eyes.

“Wait, why do you think Y/n is seeing someone? Are you seeing someone?” Bora asked, looking between you two confused.

“No, I’m not,” you said to her plainly.

“You’re a liar with pants on fire,” Jungkook said with a scoff. He really just wants to know, he has an idea on who with but he can’t just say it.

“I’m not wearing pants,” you said and he was so close to choking you out because why are you being so condescending?

“It’s a metaphor.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard it before but I don’t get it, I know it’s probably some history joke but it just doesn’t make sense, right?” You said with a little laugh making him nod his head in agreement.

“Wait. Stop changing the subject. Who are you seeing?” He said.

You laughed, “No one.”

“Y/n.”

“Jungkook.” You repeated in the same tone he used with you.

“Bora.”

“Bora shut up,” you and Jungkook said at the same time.

“Sorry that I don’t know what you guys are talking about,” Bora said with a scoff. As much as you loved Borea, she was the slowest of you three and never caught onto things as quickly. You’re not surprised that Jungkook suspected this since he brought it up the other day but you wanna see how long you can deny it.

“Go somewhere else then for a couple minutes,” Jungkook said pointing at a random corner of the party trying to direct her over there.

“You guys suck,” she said, flipping you off.

“Love you Bora,” you said with a wave as she walked away.

“Liar.”

“Why don’t you just admit you’re dating someone?” Jungkook asked and this time you couldn’t take the annoyance that was brewing.

“Jungkook, why are you pushing it? What does it matter?” You asked running your fingers through your hair to move it out of your face.

“Because I have my suspicions and if I’m right I want to at least make sure you’re okay,” he said and he was being honest. The last guy you dated cheated on you and the one before that was a manipulator so he feels like as a close friend of yours he has a right to make sure you’re not seeing another asshole.

“What are your suspicions?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re dating someone from campus.”

“Dating but in the loosest of term,” you said.

He rolled his eyes, “Alright seeing, you’re seeing someone on campus.”

“Okay sure.”

“But not a student,” he said, waiting to see if you’d react but you didn’t so much as blink.

You huffed in annoyance, “Stop speaking in incomplete sentences and just spit it out if you know.”

“Your professor.”

Your jaw dropped, “You did not just say that.”

Okay, you knew he thought you were seeing someone but there’s no way you two were obvious enough for Jungkook to notice. What a hypocrite you were as if you didn’t just tell him to spit it out.

“I did,” he said with a triumphant smirk now that he got an actual reaction out of you. You fought like little kids but it might be because you’re both just a teensy bit drunk.

“Jungkook, I'm not seeing my—him, and don’t say that again, someone might hear,” you whispered the last part.

“Alright, first of all you told me to spit it out, second don’t deny it, Y/n,” he said, making you roll your eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Deny. Deny. Deny.

“Girl, I just know. Bora’s been joking nonstop about it and I think you really did sleep with him at least. You’ve been ditching us more — which is normal… but I’m just saying, you won’t even tell us who it is. You’re being so secretive about it and it makes me think it’s him. Plus, any time I’m walking past the art room or walking you there I always see the way he looks at you. And what do you do? Well you get all blushy but nervous and guess what I found the other day? A big fat hickey on his neck the same day he got mad I was in the room,” Jungkook with w gasp at the end from how fast he rushed everything out.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve been holding all of that in?” You asked with a little laugh.

“Yes! I have, so I’m literally begging you Y/n just tell me I’m right,” Jungkook said.

“Fine! You’re right, I’m sleeping with him,” you groaned but he just cheered.

“Oh thank god,” he said, holding a hand to his chest, “You got a few screws loose or something?”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re so fucked.”

You didn’t argue on that as you released a sigh, “Yeah, I know.”

“So is he gonna come pick you up?” Jungkook asked now and you nodded your head as you checked your messages where Tae texted that he would be here in five minutes. He raised a hand to your black bunny ears and flicked the headband back, “Be safe.”

You smiled as he left your side, that was your best friend’s way of saying he would support you and your decisions. When Taehyung arrived shortly after you left the apartment door hugging your sides feeling a lot more naked now than you did inside the party.

Outside the building a guy dressed in an oversized gray hoodie, black ball cap, and black sweats stood at the door waiting and he turned to look at you, you smiled. You looked behind you as if you would see someone you knew coming down the stairs and when it was clear you practically ran to him.

Taehyung released a soft laugh as you nearly jumped on him looking exactly like you were supposed to, a cute bunny overly excited to see him. Why did you make him smile so much when it’s just the two of you?

“I’m cold,” you said with a pout as you hugged his waist, “I forgot my jacket at Jungkook’s place.”

“Mm,” he hummed, his thumb caressing your cheek softly as he couldn’t stop himself placing at least one kiss on your lips. It was short and sweet and he was quickly pulling away to take off his hat first. His hair was beginning to get longer and the fluff and waved made it look shaggier than usual. Usually you always see him looking all sexy and professional in class but whenever you get to see him looking like the epitome of boyfriend material, your heart flutters. His long hair shielded his face as he dipped his head down to pull off his big hoodie and handed it to you before slipping his hat back on.

Once it was on he took you by your hand and walked the short distance to where he had the car parked and asked, “Did you have fun?”

“It was alright but too many people,” you said, thanking him for holding the car door open for you. Before you fully got in the car you gave him a quick kiss that had him smiling.

The two of you sat in the car for a moment, the car was on and the overhead lights were on and he just grabbed your hand to press a kiss to your knuckle, “You’re coming over, right?”

“Obviously,” you smiled as you leaned over the console for another kiss. It’s like you just couldn’t keep your hands off each other, he was kissing you back just as eagerly.

The further you leaned back the more Taehyung followed after you and by accident, your bunny ears hit the rear view mirror and knocked them down your head. You whined about the sudden pain while he was hit by one of the black ears making him move back laughing. You smacked your lips in annoyance as you sat back properly and yanked them off. He bit back a smile as he reached up to turn off the light and drive off.

He would be lying if he said he was patient but in truth, he couldn’t wait to have you. You ran for his bedroom chasing each other's mouths and when you were inside, you practically pushed him onto the bed giggling like you’ve just had the best idea ever. Taehyung felt so giddy in the moment and all he could do was smile as you took off his hoodie and slipped back on your bunny ears, “Well? You don’t like my costume? I thought I looked at least a little hot.”

“So cute,” Taehyung smiled boyishly and it took everything in him not to dig his face in one of his pillows. You crossed your arms over your chest rolling your eyes playfully and pretended like you didn’t see his outstretched hand beckoning you forward. You crawled onto the bed knocking the headband off your head as he began to kiss along your arm, guiding you to lay down so he could get on top and kiss you. You gladly let him take the lead, arms wrapping around his neck to hold him while his tongue licked along your lip.

Your legs were spread around him hoisted up at the knee and he took the chance to sit up between them and just take in the sight of you. You looked so pretty and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling on your clothes to get them off. He kissed along your exposed thighs trailing up toward your stomach and purposely skipping your pelvis even if his hands grazed your hip bones.

You wore nothing under your costume and Taehyung would be lying if he said that didn’t make him just a little jealous. It wasn’t anything serious but all he could think about tonight was how many people would hit on you. It’s no secret you were very pretty and he always worried that you’ll realize he’s too old for you and he can’t have that. If it means he has to give you all the pleasure your body can take, he will.

Taehyung looked at your exposed breasts licking his lips. Once your eyes meet he couldn’t help but finally hover over you and press open mouthed kisses to your mounds, swirling his tongue around your nipples in a way that caught you by surprise making your hand circle into his hair. Taehyung tugged a stiff bud between his teeth, rolling the other between his fingertips and you had to bite down on your lip to keep an embarrassing moan from slipping out.

“Tae, please,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to get an ounce of friction between your legs. You would be a liar if you said you hadn’t been thinking about this all night. He hasn’t paid much attention to your gear yet but if he did he would see the clear line of arousal that coated your entrance.

Taehyung lets his lips ghost over your inner thigh, nipping gently at your soft flesh and his fingers seemed to dig into where he bit and spread your legs even further apart.

“I’m trying to appreciate what a pretty bunny I have,” he murmurs, pressing a warm kiss to the spot just below your belly button, “You look so hot, all those pictures you sent me almost made me want to keep you all to myself tonight.”

It was true too. Earlier he had to see his ex at the restaurant and he had wanted to spend the night with you but you had already made plans and he didn’t want to keep you from it. When you showed him your costume he was just alone at his house trying to talk himself out of calling you and asking you to wear it for him and him alone but he knew you should go and have fun with your friends.

In the end he couldn’t stop himself from going to pick you earlier than expected, tired of waiting.

His soft hair brushes against your inner thighs as he finally dips his head between them, finally seeing how wet you were and his fingers dug into your thighs unintentionally, “Baby, how long have you been like this?”

“All night,” you confessed, “Couldn’t stop thinking about you—ngh, fuck.”

Taehyung didn’t even let you finish when his tongue licked your wanting folds, releasing a quiet breath of relief at your taste. He does it a couple times as if testing the water and each time a line of slick connects your cunt to the tip of his tongue when he would pull away.

“Poor baby, I’ll make you feel good, okay?” he breathes.His lips close around your clit so suddenly that your body reacted drastically. Your spine curved off the bed, a hand tightening around his hair pulling on accident and he releases a low groan at the hard tug but it only made him be rougher. He pulled your legs over his shoulders so they weren’t in the way when his tongue lapped at your pool of arousal before coating your clit with it. His arms had hooked around your thighs to keep you from squirming away from him and he could tell you loved his soft manhandling. He purposely nudged his nose against your clit feeling you begin to grind your pussy against his lips seeking your own pleasure and he happily let you use him to get off. Everytime he went lower he dipped his tongue teasingly into your entrance before pulling on your left labia knowing it was more sensitive between his lips to listen to your moans grow louder.

“Taste so sweet,” he hummed in appreciation and finally decided to really put his tongue to work. Taehyung alternated between flicking his tongue over the swollen bundle of nerves and flattening his tongue into your folds and moving it side to side before swallowing it whole in his mouth. He was quite literally making out with your cunt and he held you firmly to keep you from moving away.

You were so close already and he wasn’t easing up when you pulled on his hair in warning, “Tae, I’m so close.”

“Mhm,” he nodded his head, feeling your pussy subconsciously following his head movement to keep his mouth on you, “Go ahead, let go, pretty girl.”

Without much warning a hand left your thigh so that his middle finger can toy on your entrance and before you knew it he was pushing it into your wanton beat. You released a loud whine trying to squeeze your legs around his head to push him back but he only pressed a second finger into your slick. You were so close already and he wasn’t easing up until he tasted your release on his tongue. Taehyung knew exactly where that soft spot behind your pubic bone was and curved his long fingers into it, repeatedly pressing into it every time he thrusted his fingers back in. You have to admit, he eats your pushy bettwr than any guy you’ve ever been with and it’s all because of how experienced he was. You almost felt jealous at the thought of how many times he went down on his wife like this—even if he told you it had been a long time since they were last intimate.

Taehyung was unaware of your growing thoughts, too focused on making you cum and unintentionally he snapped you out of your thoughts when he suddenly pulled his fingers out right before your orgasm hit you and replaced it with his tongue. Immediately your body seemed to react to the change and you pulled hard on his hair as you saw stars.

He kept his grip firm on your leg making sure his tongue licked up all of your release like a dog in search of water.

Even as your body tried to calm down he licked at your clit gently, soothing you down as he messily tried to sneak a hand down to his sweats to tug them down.

You both looked at each other with hungry eyes as he sat back on his haunches to yank his shirt off before moving to take his sweats and boxer briefs off. As if knowing the routine, you reached into his nightstand to find the box of condoms he bought with you and ripped into the package watching him stroke himself for some relief and let it point straight.

You sit up pulling him down by the gold necklace he usually wore and kissed him hard, tasting your own release on his tongue and it was all so messy. His chin was coated in your arousal that rubbed off on you and his stiff cock was in your hands as you worked the condom onto him. Taehyung fell forward making you fall back onto the bed as he pressed his hands into the mattress to keep from crushing you.

“Look at what you do to me, baby,” he groaned as he fucked his hard dick into your fist. You just moaned leading him toward your push and he slid in right between your folds teasingly as he ran his tip along them.

“I need you,” you whisper into his ears as he drops his head down against your chest to watch his cock catch against your opening and finally rock his hips forward.

You couldn’t stop your hips from meeting his and guide him in further with a moan, “Fuck.”

You arch up, pressing your breasts closer to his face and he wordlessly wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple in time with the way he pushed in until he was at the hilt.

“So tight,” he rasps around a nipple; slowly beginning to fuck his long dick inside you. You moan at the tug he made between his teeth when he draws his hips back before fucking into you harder this time. Taehyung was shamefully close to orgasm because of how hard you pulled on his hair and his back was curved up making him practically curl into your body to stuff his cock deeper. Your nails scratched along his back moaning his name, “Taehyung, I can’t—“

God; he turned you on so much and you were already so sensitive. Your legs hooked around his hips, the heels of your feet forcing him even deeper as your walls tightened around his length making him moan, slobbering all over your tits.

“You’re so fucking good to me, Angel,” he fucked you hard and slowly making you feel his entire length. His hair ticked your chin as he pulled his mouth away to trail kisses up your neck until he could kiss your lips. “Why are you so pretty?”

He was looking at you lovingly, driving his dick deeper and deeper and curving his hips at an angle that made him hit your sweet spot everytime.

You can only moan in response when Taehyung tried to pull out halfway but your feet wouldn’t let him and he had to resort to rocking and grinding his hips against yours, practically rutting into you.

“I don’t know,” you finally responded to his rhetorical question. You can feel the familiar tremors of another orgasm starting, making your thighs shake and he doesn’t ease up, determined to making you cum a second time before letting himself go. You dug your nails into his shoulder making him his at the pleasuring pain and your voice rose to a high pitch, “Oh my god, I—I—“

He kissed you hard as your orgasm hit you, making you tighten around his cock so hard that you triggered his own orgasm. “Oh fuck,” he groaned as he rocked his hips, cumming hard into the condom and hugging your body to his listening to your breathless pants.

After a moment to catch your breath, he pulled out carefully, dryly swallowing as he ran a soothing hand up your trembling thighs, “You did so good, you always do.”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, already turning on your side, completely tired out. Taehyung just smiled at the sight of you trying to curl yourself into the blanket and as he watched your eyes close tiredly, he cleaned off the mess from the two of you before crashing down onto the bed next to you.

“Honey, wake up.”

You released a soft moan as you rolled onto your stomach making the comforter wrap around you as you dug your face into the pillow. A low laugh filled the room as Taehyung reached a hand out to your hair. You were quite literally the definition of comfortable sleep. Your hair was a mess because of your eye mask, the sheets were tangled between your legs and you’re spread out on the bed with no care in the world.

He brushed some of the locks out of your face, “Y/n, wake up.”

You huffed as you pulled yourself up enough to reach for your phone and checked the time, a whine left your lips, “Tae, it’s like 11 in the morning, are you crazy?”

He looked at you strangely, “It’s noon, Y/n.”

“And a Sunday,” you told him as you slipped your sleeping mask back on, “You know how late it was when you picked me up from the party, how are you not tired? Plus, I have to work tonight.”

“Fine, sleep all you want then, I’m gonna do some work,” Taehyung said with a slight roll of his eyes. You’re right, it’s a Sunday and typically those are lazy days, especially for Taehyung. He likes to just hang around the house reading, playing classical or jazz, maybe enjoy a coffee outside and you know… having the person you’re seeing join you.

He gets it, he really does. You’re tired and you did have a late night. He did too but he hadn’t gotten tipsy so he’s not hungover. He woke up early and did his usual Sunday habit but once it passed noon he wanted to see if you’d wake up anytime soon. You do work tonight and he probably won’t see you tomorrow so he would like to be with you today but you’re clearly tired.

You have a very chaotic schedule like most college students trying to bounce between strange class times and stranger work schedules so honestly your weeks all look different. He’s got more consistency clearly so he has time to relax and be at home or go out for drinks without having to do things so late. It’s clearly been a little difficult making your schedules align sonce yours is unpredictable. Some days you have early morning lectures and late night shifts. Other times you have three lectures in one day but they’re hours apart and they go well past the sun sets. Some weekends you work, some you don’t. Sometimes you get off early, sometimes you get asked to cover a shift.

Don’t even get him started on your crazy schedule for your art piece for the exhibition. You’re stressed and tired and last night you had your fun.

You went out with your friends, got drunk, danced, did whatever… maybe talked to guys or played a drinking game—just had fun. Then of course the two of you had done some things in the car when you sobered up enough and the night just grew later and later.

So he let you sleep.

Things have been tense for you lately. With school, work, the spring exhibition, balancing your friends and still trying to make time to at least talk to Taehyung, it’s all been too much for you. To make matters worse, you and Jungkook aren’t speaking to each other and if you do it tends to end in an argument over the same thing each time.

“You wanted me to be honest and I was,” you told him as he walked with you to the art room, “So why can't you just trust that I know what I’m doing?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Y/n. You’re my best friend, of course I fucking trust you and that’s not why I keep trying to talk to you about this,” Jungkook said as the two of you stopped in front of the building, “I’m worried for you, alright? How long has it been since you and Hoseok broke up?”

You didn’t say anything because you knew he wasn’t actually asking. He didn’t even give you time to speak anyway, “And when did you hook up with V?”

When Jungkook said V he was referring to Taehyung, it was an easy nickname you could use in public. Once again, Jungkook didn’t give you much time to speak, “I get it, everyone wants to have a rebound and I was all for it, I was joking right there alongside Bora about it.”

“So then what are you trying to say right now?” You asked him with your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned against the building wall with windows, you knew that if Taehyung was inside he would be watching.

Jungkook took a deep breath as he moved to stand close to you, “What I’m saying is I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I won’t,�� you told him but it was very clear he didn’t fully believe it.

The thing is, Jungkook really did care for you. He loved you and it wasn’t in a romantic way, he just loved you as a friend and that wasn’t something up for debate. If Bora was going through this exact situation he would be equally concerned.

It’s not that he has a disliking toward Professor Kim because if anything, it’s the complete opposite. He has a lot of respect for the guy because of his professionalism and what he’s done to help his students. Jungkook doesn’t think Taehyung has bad intentions with you but he also can’t fully support a relationship that has been built because the two of you went through very similar experiences and you’re both still coping.

And you can lie to yourself all you want about how what Namjoon didn’t bother you anymore but Jungkook knows you. He knew that when you were telling him and Bora about it you were fighting back tears. He knows that you didn’t want to confront Hoseok and that you ended it with him so that you wouldn’t have to talk about it again. That’s not coping, that’s ignoring the problem and once again, Jungkook knows you. He knows that if you don’t deal with it any time soon then you’re just going to let it bubble up until one day you just break down and he highly doubts Professor Kim would handle that well.

Taehyung is older, he’s a bit more mature and level headed which is what you need but Jungkook just doesn’t want you to think it’s more than it is so that you end up hurt again. You need to talk with Taehyung and really discuss what kind of relationship you’re both looking for and until then Jungkook can’t fully support it.

He’s not going to sit around and watch his friend get hurt again.

With a reluctant sigh he finally said, “Am I taking you to work later?”

“If you can,” you mumbled as he ruffled your hair with a final goodbye. You waited outside for a moment trying to clear your thoughts.

You’ve known Jungkook for a long time and he’s a very good friend. Honestly sometimes it feels like you don’t deserve the kid, sure he can be immature and annoying at times but at the end of the day he cares deeply for those around him and you feel lucky to be one of them. He’s put up with you for years now so you understand where he’s coming from but you also feel like you’re capable of making your own decisions.

He’s right, you don’t know how your relationship will go with Taehyung but you don’t want to think about that right now.

Right now you want to finish up your work and enjoy the short amount of time you have with Taehyung because despite being so different, it works for you two. It’s almost like you balance each other out and you haven’t felt that way with someone in a while. You know that you have an age gap and it’s not that you think you’re this mature woman who knows everything but you’re also not a kid.

You’re at an age where you’re navigating through adulthood but you also can still say that you are a bit naive on some things and it can make things confusing for you. You know Taehyung doesn’t have bad intentions with you but you also know that he was once a married man to his college sweetheart who broke his heart. A man doesn’t just bounce back from that in a year’s time no matter how much he despises the woman now.

“What are you doing?” Yuna asked so suddenly that you jumped and she smiled, “Aren’t you going in?”

“Yeah,” you said with a sigh as you followed her into the studio for your printmaking class.

You walked past Taehyung like he was nothing more than your professor and he greeted you like you were nothing but a student. It goes like this almost every day you see him on campus but then the night or weekends roll around and it’s an entirely different story. It’s a bit exhausting but you prefer it this way.

“So, uh, you know who came up to me this morning?” Yuna asked, making you shrug curiously as you went to the usual table the two of you worked at, Seungjin already there waiting.

“Namjoon, he asked if I knew where you were but I said no,” Yuna told you, “I don’t know if I was supposed to say yes or not because—well, did you guys break up?”

Seungjin looked at you now, “Wait, you two broke up? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I don’t like telling people my business,” you said in a snappy tone that Seungjin knew you weren’t serious about, “But we broke up before he left.”

Namjoon was just on a two week retreat for his major and that’s the only reason why he stopped blowing up your phone other than that day in the beginning when Taehyung scolded you for walking out. You knew he wasn’t done trying to get you back because even if the relationship was short lived and he cheated, the two of you worked well together. That’s why it bothered the shit out of you that he threw it away when the two of you could’ve been something great.

There’s no point in thinking about it now though because you’ll never take a man who cheated on you back.

“So it’s only been a few weeks?” Yuna asked, “That makes so much sense. I was wondering why you haven’t talked about him or why he seemed so mad when I told him I hadn’t seen you.”

“Are you working tonight?” Seungjin asked, trying to change the subject when he could tell you weren’t feeling it anymore.

In the beginning you barely talked to him and even Yuna, but lately he’s been hanging out with Jungkook a lot and you’ve been talking to Yuna more regularly so you’ve all just become closer friends. Seungjin knows your work schedule because most of the time if Taehyung can’t pick you up, Jungkook does and since the guy is always with Jungkook, he’s basically memorized your work schedule.

“Sadly,” you mumbled as you stared down at your work struggling to find out where to start, “I’ve got so much shit to do it’s stressing me out.”

Taehyung’s gotten a little bit better at hiding what the two of you have but it doesn’t make things easier. He still can’t fully explain your relationship because there’s a lot of factors that play a part in it.

First, your age. You’re both very clearly in different points of your lives even if your age difference isn’t too bad, it’s still not fully acceptable.

It’s not like he’s using the fact that you’re young and a bit naive in his favor because he honestly thinks you’re mature. He’s not going to say you’re mature for your age because he doesn’t like what that saying means. You’re mature because that’s just how you are and it has nothing to do with your age, just your person. He’s not sleeping with you because you’re young but behave like you’re grown.

He’s sleeping with you and talking to you every chance he has because he genuinely enjoys your time. He enjoys sleeping in bed with you and listening to your rants over the littlest things. He likes how enthusiastic you get when you talk about your favorite show or explain the meaning behind your art. He likes that you listen to his own rants about jazz music and which artist is favorite. He likes that you don’t know how to do some things but you’re always looking to learn something new.

Taehyung has gotten used to not being able to interact with you during the day. It’s not that the two of you can’t talk, it's that you shouldn’t. There’s too much tension there any time you do. You can tell by the way he looks at you with warm eyes that turn your insides giddy even if you want to say they don’t. He speaks to you gently and his tone very obviously changes when he’s talking to the others so the both of you are just paranoid to be found out.

The only time he really gets to see you is late at night and that makes him feel like an absolute garbage of a man because he’s not using you for sex. That’s not all he wants but if the only time he gets to see you is after you get off work, then it looks that way, especially considering you’re usually very eager to sleep with him that sometimes he can’t catch up.

“You don’t have class tomorrow, do you?” Taehyung asked as he twisted a lock of your hair around his index finger. You were laying on his chest as some A24 film played on the television in your bedroom. You’ve just finished having sex and now you’re just trying to enjoy some time together before morning comes and you have to go back to acting like there’s nothing between you.

“No, but I’ll be busy with the project,” you mumbled against his chest as you made yourself more comfortable against him.

“I’ve got a meeting in the morning but I’m free the majority of the day, there’s going to be the other teachers so I won’t have to stay,” Taehyung offered up, “Maybe we can do something.”

“I’d like that,” you told him as you tried paying attention to the movie but Taehyung wasn’t as interested. He wanted to talk to you because that’s what people in a relationship should do.

“I saw you and your friend talking outside today, everything okay?” Taehyung asked as you looked up at him.

“Yeah.”

He stayed quiet for a moment as he tried to decipher your expression and what you really meant. He does wish you would communicate a little more. You’re very obviously stressed about numerous things and maybe he could help with it a little but not if you won’t talk to him. He was used to his ex ignoring him in favor of keeping it bottled in and resenting him for her own lack of communication but he doesn’t want that with you. He wants to ask more but he won’t force you to tell him.

“Jungkook figured out about us,” you said before gnawing on your bottom lip in fear that he would be mad. Taehyung took a deep breath as he nodded his head, making you rush to say, “He won’t say anything, trust me.”

“I mean… if you trust him then I do too,” Taehyung said. He knows you’re close with Jungkook and that does make him nervous sometimes but he can’t come out of nowhere and tell you that so he just accepts it.

“And…” you bit your lip once more and Taehyung found himself bringing his thumb up to pull your lip out as it reddened.

“Talk to me,” he said gently. You’re opening up to him little by little but something is clearly on your mind that you’re struggling to say. Every time you get shy and nervous he doesn’t see you as the one who made the first move in his car that night, he just sees someone he cares a lot about looking worried and anxious. He just wants to be here for you.

“My ex has been asking around for me,” you told him honestly and he took a deep breath in thought.

“Really?” Taehyung looked away from you for a moment. Your ex was a cheater, he cheated on someone as beautiful and smart as you and in reality he’s also the reason why you and Taehyung got close. He knows that he’ll never go back to his cheating ex but you might feel differently. You might be more easily swayed into going back to him and it’s not like Taehyung could do anything about it. Your ex is closer to your age, he’s known you a little longer and all of your friends know of him. He’s not a secret to you and you’re not a secret to him so he would have no choice but to understand if you took him back.

“I mean, it’s just a bit tiring, I thought we were over this but it looks like he’s back to trying,” you said with a defeated sigh before cuddling back into Taehyung.

He pressed his lips to your hair, not really kissing you but just appreciating the intimacy, “Would you?”

“What?” Your brows furrowed as you looked up at him. Taehyung had never regretted his words so quickly looking at the way you pulled away from him clearly taken back. He cleared his throat, “I mean would you want to try with him again?”

“Would you?” You asked a little annoyed, “Would you want to try with your ex wife again if she asked?”

“No,” Taehyung sat up with you, “Of course not, but I would understand if you did.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “So you would understand if I went back to my cheating ex? Good to know that you understand if someone takes back a cheater.”

“Baby that’s not what I mea—“ Taehyung tried to say but you were already moving off the bed, “Hey I just mean… you’re both still young and make mistakes—you weren’t dating long before and if there’s still lingering feelings…”

“If I still felt something for him, why would I be with you?” You asked, making him bite his lip nervously, “And you think just because I’m young it’s alright to just forgive someone who hurt me? Nice to know.”

“No, honey pl—“

“I’m gonna get in the shower,” you cut him off just as he was getting up.

He watched you leave and he sat on the edge of your bed running his hand over his face in frustration. That’s not what he meant at all. He was trying to say he would understand your feelings but that was clearly the problem. Why would he even think you would leave him the second you got the chance? You’re not his ex but he just doesn’t want to lose you when he just started feeling love again.

Wait, not love. It’s too early for that and you think so too but he means it affectionately. Why did he have to pretend like he would understand? He wouldn’t. He just doesn’t want you or your friend to think he’s the one controlling your relationship.

He has to trust you and not assume you’ll leave him.

Taehyung knows he upset you last night. That wasn’t his intention by any means and he feels like shit for making you feel any sort of way. You know your worth just how he knows his and it’s unfair that he questioned you about it. He feels so stupid and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all morning.

He wasn’t able to pay attention in his meetings because all he could think about was how to be better for you. He knew you would be busy for a bit today so he didn’t want to bother you early on but you agreed to spend the day together. He decided that he would get groceries before you came over later, maybe a nice home cooked meal and some wine would ease the tension.

Going grocery shopping was one of those things Taehyung despised and there was on specific reason as to why. He’s a 30 year old man going shopping alone—it was a recipe to be hit on by single women his age. He could always say he’s in a relationship but he can’t go into detail and unfortunately if there’s no wedding ring on his finger then it doesn’t matter much. If anything it’s easy to note the pale ring mark on his left finger from when he used to have a wedding ring.

He walked around the market pushing a shopping cart filled with his usual groceries along with some things he knew you would like and tried to hurry this along.

“Tae?”

His breath hitched as he came to a slow stop, but he didn’t turn around or even look at Jihyun until she stood in front of him. Why did she feel the need to talk to him after what she did and why was he seeing her now of all times?

“I thought it was you,” she said shyly, “Doing some shopping?”

“Yup,” Taehyung said as he looked over a bag of coffee. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for or what the difference between dark roast or light roast but he was trying. Jihyun didn’t say anything as she looked at the bag, “Trouble deciding?”

What was she getting at? Taehyung thought. It was pretty clear he didn't want to talk to her and when he left with you the day of the lunch where they ran into her he thought it was obvious then too.

He knows he can just choose a bag of coffee and it’ll be fine but he wants to choose one you would like. You’re a coffee drinker but he’s heard you order drinks before and you like your coffee a certain way so he doesn’t want to mess this up. Jihyun bit her lip, “Light roast has more caffeine, when did you start drinking coffee?”

He set the bag back down and changed it ou yt for a dark roast one, “It’s for Y/n.”

He wasn’t going to thank her for her help because she thought it was for him but he is a little thankful that she helped him decide which you would like better. You like caffeine but you hate the taste of it. He dropped the bag down into his cart and went to look for creamer.

“So are you two really seeing each other? She seems a bit youn—“

“We are and she is but she’s mature, more mature than some other people I’ve met before,” Taehyung said trying to leave with his shopping cart, “And she understands my interests.”

He’s not going to say exactly how because it would easily give away that you’re his student but he will say that. He doesn’t feel the need to explain anything to Jihyun but he does want her to know that he’s doing just fine without her so she can stop trying to ask him about you.

“Jihyun,” Taehyung looked at her one last time and could see the look of hope in her eyes, “My name is Taehyung, not Tae.”

He turned his back to her and as if the thought of you alone brought this up, you were calling and he was smiling as he walked away and answered, “Hello?”

“I am at your place, am I too early? You’re not home, sorry I should’ve called before coming over,” you said through the phone.

“I’m just at the store but I’m heading over to pay right now,” Taehyung said, “There’s a key under the potted plant by the door, let yourself in and do you mind taking Tannie out for a walk? I haven’t had a chance.”

“Yes sir, I’d love to take him out,” you said jokingly, making him laugh softly.

He left without another word to Jihyun and she watched him walk away like she wasn't even there. She’s being selfishly unreasonable to expect anything else after what she did but she regrets it so much. She was at a point in their marriage where she thought he was losing his love for her. He was always so busy with work or something else that he wouldn’t pay attention to her. She thought he was avoiding her and in the end she fell for the attention she received from someone else and ruined her marriage with the love of her life.

Call her a cheater but don’t call her a liar, he really is or was the love of her life. They got together at such an impressionable age and it was so sweet and romantic and now she has to watch him be that way again with someone young and beautiful. It hurts.

Taehyung got back to a surprisingly quiet apartment feeling dejected, maybe you were still out with Yeontan or may—

“Boo!” You jumped up from behind his kitchen counter holding his pup up like you both surprised him and he nearly dropped the bags in surprise. A huge smile spread on his face and he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Cute.”

“What did you get?” You asked as you let Yeontan run off in order to help him get the bags. He shrugged, “Just stuff to make later. How was your painting?”

You sighed, “Tiring. I’m almost done but I feel like something is missing.”

“Just remember not to overdo it. Sometimes less is better and if you’re happy with it now it’s better to stop, I want to see it,” Taehyung said.

He realized that he was stressed this morning for nothing. You’re not mad at him because of last night when he thought you would be. He needs to stop assuming that you’ll react the way Jihyun used to. She would snap on him for every little thing but you’re not like that and it’s refreshing and reassuring so he needs to remember you’re different.

You’re like spring. Yes, you’ve got a bit of an attitude sometimes but you’re so unlike anyone he’s ever been with. You’re fun and bright and make him smile without trying. You work hard and it shows through your work.

Taehyung cupped your face in his hands, “You’re so cute.”

“I thought I was hot,” you teased with a smile as he pressed a soft kiss against your lips.

Things are good, great even, at least that’s what you think. You feel secure with Taehyung and you haven’t felt that way in a long time. Sure, you both are still very much keeping it a secret but you’re heed to it now. There’s not much you can do about it but you’re so close to graduating and then it’s all over.

You’ve finished your painting for the spring exhibit which is just around the corner and you couldn’t be happier. With that out of the way you’ve got more free time to do other things and even though you work and have classes, it opens up a lot of time for you.

Tonight you did have to work but you spent most of your shift with Jungkook up until he was off. Like usually he was off before you and he asked if you wanted him to come back and take you home but you assured him Taehyung would.

Thankfully you didn’t have to close tonight since it was a weeknight. The bar was still open but there was another closer and you got off early so Taehyung was planning on picking you up and driving you home.

As your shift came to an end you followed your usual routine of putting your things away, collecting your tips, and clocking out. Taehyung had already texted you that he was running a couple minutes behind but you were just excited to see him.

“Y/n?”

You seemed to freeze up, you had just left through the back alley to go home and there in front of you was a familiar stranger. Namjoon stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets nervously. You looked around the lot to see if you could spot Taehyung yet but you couldn’t, “What?”

“Can we talk?” He asked as he took a step closer to you, “I just don’t get what happened between us.”

“You’re still on that? Jeez, Joon I didn’t think you would be the type to not let shit go,” you scoffed in annoyance and began walking down one end of the alley to get to the main street.

Namjoon followed after you, “What do you think would have happened? You stop talking to me out of the blue right before my trip and tell me it’s over but you can’t tell me why?”

“You know why,” you turned to him angrily, “Or what? Were you hoping I was just stupid enough to not realize you slept with someone who was supposed to be my best friend?”

Namjoon came to a stop. This was the first time you ever said this to him. You had told Taehyung how much you didn’t want to confront him about it but you had no choice. You needed him to stop asking for you and just leave you alone. You scoffed, “Surprised? Hate to break it to you but you were more obvious than you think. So are you happy? Now you know why I left you… you thought you could cheat on me and I’ll never find out, what a fucking joke.”

You turned away from him, a familiar black car parked on the street and you just wanted to get away from this conversation. With a smile on your face you headed toward the car, Namjoon following after you.

He grabbed on your arm tightly, yanking you back to him and nearly making you stumble, “Come on Y/n, I fucked up, I was planning on telling you but you’ve just been igno—“

You jumped in surprise at the loud honk of a car horn and you quickly turned to Taehyung who you knew was watching and you really didn’t want him to come out and expose himself but you know that if Namjoon kept bothering you he would. You pulled your arm free, “I’m done with you, alright? Frankly I don’t ever want to speak to you again so from now on why don’t we act like we don’t know each other?”

With that you left him standing there shocked and got in Taehyung’s car.

Despite it being dark out and Taehyung’s windows being heavily tinted, he still looked out at Namjoon who stood there frozen. You had gotten in his car but he was focused on the guy who just grabbed his girlfriend roughly. Before he could ask if everything was okay, you practically lunged toward him and he caught you over the middle console with a smile on his face.

You pressed your lips against his and he couldn’t help but kiss back confidently, a hand in your hair keeping you close. He nearly forgot about the guy standing outside until he opened his eyes and saw that he was gone now. He gently pushed you away only to watch you pout and ask for more.

He ran his thumb over your pouty lip, “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, trying to kiss him again but he only leaned back trying to get you to talk. You gave him a quick kiss on his lips before sitting back, “I’m fine, I swear. That was my ex but we’re all good now.”

“That was him?” He asked, seeming bothered now and he reached out for your arm, the one Namjoon grabbed roughly, “Did he hurt you or anything?”

You just smiled as you sat back up to kiss him again. He turned away from you, “Baby, let’s talk first.”

You whined, “He didn’t and I don’t want to talk. I want to kiss you because you’re so hot and I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I know but…” he bit his lip. He should trust you. You said you’re okay and you left the guy standing there to come to him so he should trust you. He does trust you. A smile came to his face as he tried to stop stressing, “I missed you too, love.”

With that he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose before kissing you again. You happily deepened the kiss between you and it was quickly getting heated. Taehyung seems to always forget where he is when it’s just you two and he nearly forgot you were in his car again until you tried going over the middle console to get on his lap.

His hands immediately went to your waist, “Wait, let’s wait till we get to your place.”

“Why? Doesn’t this remind you of our first time?” You asked, beginning to leave soft kisses along his jaw, “We can do it again.”

He bit his lip, already feeling a little turned on at the idea but he doesn’t want it to seem like a secret when you’re together. He prefers to be in bed with you when you have sex but he’ll admit, you’ve made his sex life more exciting. You’re willing to get your hands on him anywhere you are and God did that make him feel wanted. He played with the hem of your skirt with one hand as the other reached for the lever under his seat.

“One more time,” he said with a boyish smile when you squealed happily and went back to making out with him.

The end of the semester was quickly approaching. School has gone easier now since you have your major assignments done and you’ve been able to relax a little more. It’s a bit funny to be in Taehyung’s class acting like a regular student knowing he was on top of you practically every night. What is even funnier is to tease him when you shouldn’t.

Taehyung has had to stand through this entire lecture acting like you weren’t sending him the most daring texts he’s ever received. The first one he got this morning was already enough to make him bruise his lip by how hard he bit into it.

y/n: gonna be waiting for u later in this

It was a picture of you in a cute lingerie set and every time he looked at you he couldn’t help but picture it right under your clothes. You knew that’s what he thought about, that’s why you would occasionally gnaw on the end of your pen as you looked him up and down like you just needed him right then and there. It made him stumble over his words.

The other time you texted him was halfway through the lecture. He had just gotten back to his text and looked over your text, unable to help himself from looking up at you but you were too distracted by your friends to notice him. He slid over the notification and quickly responded to your other text.

y/n: if u look at me again I won’t be able to stop myself from giving u and the whole class a show

tae: be a good girl and wait till after class

You looked up at him when you received his text and he didn’t need a response to know you would show up. He had to stay late tonight and finish up some paperwork so he wouldn’t be able to see you before you went to work. He had been bummed out about it but later on, when it was well into the evening, you did as told.

The sun was beginning to set and he was alone in his art room until you came along. He smiled at the sight of you entering the room and closed his files. You smiled mischievously, “You wanted to speak to me, sir?”

God, you knew what you did to him.

He had to bite back a groan as he looked outside the windows to make sure there was no one around, “I can’t speak to you if you’re so far.”

You walked up to him until you stood directly in front of him and he looked at you with lust in his eyes, “Bad girl, just because you’re done with your painting doesn’t mean you can distract me.”

You bit your lip, “What do you mean, sir?”

He chuckled as he ran his fingers through his hair, “Sending me all those dirty messages in class?”

Your brows furrowed cutely, “Hm… but you liked them?”

Taehyung dropped his voice down to a whisper, “I did.”

“So why are we still out here?” You used the same whispering tone and just like that, you were following him into the familiar art storage closet. Before you could even surprise him with a peak at the lingerie he was pushing you against the shelves and kissing you hard. You released a surprised whimper trying to kiss him back. Your fingers quickly toyed with the buttons of his white long sleeve and Taehyung let his hands slide under your shirt trying to inch it off your body already.

His fingers worked diligently to pull it off as he felt you begin to unbutton the front of his shirt with the need to just touch already. Once it was undone your hands moved to his hair, ruffling it up when he yanked your shirt off displaying the lingerie to his hungry eyes. Your leg went up to wrap around him as the other stayed locked to keep you from falling and Taehyung fit perfectly against you as he kissed down your neck while his other hand began to play with your skirt.

“You’re so cute,” he mumbled between kisses and you sighed with a playful roll of your eyes.

“Everytime I try to look hot for you, you just call me cute.”

He laughed, close to giggling as he pulled away to look at you again, “You look hot and cute and sexy and beautiful and I just want to eat you up every time I see you, okay?”

You smiled shyly now at his words and tried to look away in embarrassment but he just kissed you harder, forgetting where you were.

The campus was mostly empty except for those who had night classes. The art department was empty minus the two of you so you weren’t worried about being caught but maybe you should have been.

When Jihyun got to campus she wasn’t sure what she even planned on doing. The last time she saw Taehyung he barely acknowledged her and he told her to stop calling him by a nickname. She knows how badly she messed up but it’s been a year. Maybe she could talk to him and they could at least be cordial? Maybe someday they’ll look back on this strange time apart and realize that they really were meant to always be together… he’ll hopefully forgive her mistakes and they can move past this.

“Taehyung?” She called out to him as she stepped into an empty art room. She’s not sure why she thought he would still be here but she just assumed. He was always working late and she didn’t know where he lived so this was her best bet. Clearly she looks stupid now as she stands alone in a huge room where Taehyung isn’t at. This was so clearly his room too, he had some of his art hanging along with other students work and for the first time ever, she actually decided to pay attention to them.

She passed by art work belonging to students she’s never met, they were all winning pieces from seminars and contests. Just before her was a beautiful oil painting with a name and year displayed proudly in the corner. It was one of Taehyung’s mentees.

‘Full Bloom’

By Y/n L/n, December 10, 2022

___ University

She seemed to freeze up at the name. It couldn’t be…

“Ow!”

A light voice whined as a loud thump followed and suddenly everything seemed to be connecting. There was laughter that followed and her attention immediately drifted to the direction of the noise. It went quiet again but it was too late, Jihyun was already walking to the closet.

At this point she didn’t care what she saw, she just needed to know if she was right or not.

Taehyung rubbed soothing circles against the back of your head as he whispered apologies for accidentally making you bump your head against a shelf. You had a cute pout on your lips at the pain and the fact that the two of you had to stop. All you’ve done is make out but your clothes was half off and you just wanted to keep going.

You barely had your lips brushing against his with the sudden yank on the door seemed to frighten you both away from each other. Taehyung’s initial instinct was to distance himself from you as soon as possible worried that it was a school head or worse another student but he thought about you instead. Your shirt was completely off while his was merely unbuttoned and knowing you were more undressed than him made him immediately hold you to his chest and turn his body toward the door to hide you better.

“Oh my god.”

You pressed your face into his front in embarrassment and a little bit of fear but Taehyung turned toward the door, brows scrunching together and voice raising, “Jihyun?”

You jumped, slightly startled and tried to pull away. Taehyung softened his hold on you just enough for you to snag your shirt off the shelf and hurry to put it on. Jihyun looked between you two, “She’s your student. You’re sleeping with your fucking student?”

Taehyung hushed her, “What are you doing here? Get out!”

You dressed yourself back up properly as Taehyung did the same and he seemed to look back at you once more before stepping out of the closet to follow his ex wife. You would be lying if you said your hands weren’t shaking and your face wasn’t heating up. This was all your fault.

You’re the one who came onto him in the beginning.

You’re the one who practically pushed him into a relationship and put his job on the line. You’re the one who did all this knowing his ex wife was still stupid enough to look for him.

God, you were the worst.

Feeling close to tears you hurriedly left the closet listening to Taehyung’s deep voice arguing with Jihyun.

“You come to my job and you—“

“I came to talk about us! I didn’t know you would be in the closet trying to fuck your student! What happened to you?” Jihyun shouted, “Is it because of me? Did I push you to this, Tae? I never meant to hurt you, I just…”

You looked around the art room for your things trying to hide your face because for some reason this suddenly felt wrong. It shouldn’t feel that way yet it does and all you wanted to do was escape. Why was she yelling at him like you’re a homewrecker?

Was it because you were his student or young? Or was it because she wanted him to forgive her cheating and realized he wouldn’t?

Taehyung turned to you as you headed straight for the door and he went right after you, “Y/n, wait,” but you were gone and practically running away. He could chase you but what would he do if someone saw him and asked what was wrong? You had to work soon and he would just have to wait even if he didn’t want to.

“You need to leave,” Taehyung said sternly as he glared at Jihyun, “I don’t know what you thought was going to happen by coming here but you need to go.”

“Taehyung, she’s your student, I just… do you realize the trouble you can get into?”

“Y/n graduates in four months and either way it’s none of your fucking business,” Taehyung said genuinely sounding angry and Jihyun can’t remember the last time he sounded this upset. Not even when he found out she was cheating, he had just hid his face in his hands like he wanted to cry and asked for a divorce. He scoffed, “Or what? Are you going to say something about it?”

“I—I don’t know,” Jihyun said truthfully, “But this isn’t you. You would never sink so low to sleep with a student and I know it’s my fault. I hurt you and I pushed you away and now you’re acting like a completely different person. You’ve never yelled at me before. Taehyung come on… we were her age when we started dating, you can’t possibly expect anything to come out of this relationship. She’s young and naive and she’s not looking fo—“

“Stop talking about Y/n like you know her,” Taehyung said through gritted teeth, “And stop acting like you have any moral fucking high ground. Did you forget what you did to me? You threw away ten years for a man you’re not even with anymore! Why would I care about what you have to say?”

Jihyun looked shocked like she was really surprised to be called out this way by him. He was packing up his things quickly as he said, “And we know it’s wrong because I’m her professor and she’s my student but… but it’s not wrong. We’re adults and we’ve connected and if you want to completely destroy another relationship of mine and put my job on the line because you’re an insecure woman who thought I would want you after what you did to me… then you’re cruel too.”

“Taehyung…”

“Do what you want Jihyun, tell other people, I don’t care anymore but don’t mention Y/n. If you want anyone to suffer then make it me, I’m the one who divorced you,” Taehyung said with a tired sigh, “But I’m done being nice. I tried to be cordial every time we saw each other after the divorce but if you want to get back at me then whatever, there’s nothing I can do.”

She knew it wasn’t technically wrong. You were an adult and so was he and the only thing that made it wrong was the fact that he was your college professor. She hated you from the second she saw the way Taehyung looked at you and all she wanted to do was ruin this. She was a selfish woman who made a mistake only to realize it was too late to regret it.

It’s the same as Namjoon, he made a mistake and when he found out there was possibly someone else, he came to regret it.

Now Namjoon’s out of the picture and Jihyun should be too but all she wants to do is get him back. She’s willing to look past this and get back with him but he doesn’t want that and she can’t force him to. Without a word, Jihyun turned on her heel and left him in his art room with no clue as to what she would do about this.

If she went right to the Dean then he would lose his job and probably never be able to work at another college again. The University wouldn’t want the news out so he wouldn’t have to worry about it getting out unless Jihyun told other people. If she admitted that it was you he’s not sure what would happen. These things were always easier for the man and he doesn’t want anyone to do anything to hurt you.

God, it was a mistake to get involved with a student… but not because of you. If you two had just developed a relationship when you weren’t a student any longer things would have been different.

He was sitting at his desk now with his head in his hands just thinking of everything that could happen. He could easily work with his parents at a museum. He could continue his art somewhere else and not teach but what about you? What if people assumed he had always favorited you? What if they thought he helped with your art? Your submission for the seminar would immediately be disqualified if they had even an ounce of suspicion that he helped—especially with his status and credentials in the art world.

Fuck, he screwed it up badly for you.

You went ghost for two days. You didn’t answer his calls or texts and you skipped out on class. It worried him and you knew it but you couldn’t face him. It’s not that you feel like you did anything wrong but you’re embarrassed. She’s his ex wife so she doesn’t mean shit to you but you’re sure you confirmed her original suspicions and that pissed you off. You’re just some young and naive slut who he’s keeping a secret out of shame. It’s not true but you just know that’s what she’s thinking and you couldn’t stick around to hear it that night. You still want to be with Taehyung but You’re sportier that she knocked some sense into him or something. Maybe he’s blowing up your phone because he’s trying to end things. You also know you should go back to class but if he just completely pretends like you don’t exist or worse you find out that everyone knows, you’re scared at what would happen.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Bora said, touching your leg to comfort you. After weeks, maybe even months of keeping her in the dark, you finally had to speak up. She was your best friend too and you needed them both to make you feel better. Jungkook sat on your couch with an arm around your shoulders, “Seriously Y/n, you haven’t and I honestly don’t think Taehyung feels any different. You need to talk to him.”

Your friends were right and yet you couldn’t say yes.

They spent the day with you even if Jungkook had to go to work. Technically you were supposed to work but he was going to cover your shift because you clearly weren’t feeling well.

Hours passed with them at your side watching movies and when you were suddenly feeling better there was a loud knock on your door. Jungkook went to answer it before you could move and you couldn’t make out anything past muffled noises. Shortly after, a familiar face appeared at your door and Jungkook was letting Taenyung in without asking you first.

He didn’t say anything as he looked at you and you tried to hide behind Bora but she was standing up nervously, “Mr. Kim.”

Taehyung smiled stiffly and he turned to Jungkook who seemed to understand. “Come on Bora, I gotta go get ready for work anyway.”

“Y/n,” Taehyung finally said when it was just you two, “Baby, I’m sorry, I had no idea she would just show up like that and I really don’t want you to think I’m still involved with her. I’m not lying when I say you’re the only one I care about a—“

“It was so embarrassing,” you finally broke down now that your comfort person was here. Taehyung immediately went to your side, a pout on his face as he wrapped you in his arms. You were embarrassed to be caught in such a manner, like a dirty secret.

Hell, you weren’t even fully dressed and what if it had been anyone but Jihyun? A teacher? Another one of your classmates?

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung whispered into your ear and he really was. When you finally confronted Namjoon, he let it go. He hasn’t bothered you since and yet Jihyun just kept pushing and pushing. How could your relationship with Namjoon end more maturely than his with Jihyun? He never meant for you to get hurt.

“Does anyone know?” You asked with teary eyes and he wiped them away feeling his heart drop to his stomach painfully. He shook his head no, “No, I mean I don’t think so but please baby I won’t let her do anything to hurt you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” you cried harder, “I just… well we both knew what we were getting ourselves into but I’ve never felt like such a…slut.”

“Don’t say that,” Taehyung said seriously, “Y/n, I love you.”

You looked at him with wide surprised eyes, “What?”

He didn’t back down from your gaze and with a softened voice he said, “I love you, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. This isn’t just some secret that I’m ashamed to admit. I want to be open about our relationship, so please don’t think you mean less to me because of what happened. I wasn’t embarrassed to have the truth come out to Jihyun, I was mad that she was there when she shouldn’t have been.”

“Yeah but, what if she says something?” You asked, still unable to comprehend that he’s said he loves you twice already.

“Then I’ll quit, I’ll work somewhere else and trust me if the school finds out they’re not going to tell anyone. They’ll want it to remain quiet so the school doesn’t get hate from it. I'm not going to let it hurt you and I don’t want it to drive you away from me. You’ve been ignoring me and that hurt so much,” Taehyung said with a pout as he wiped another tear from you. You felt ridiculous for being so emotional when usually you’re the complete opposite.

Usually Taehyung had to ask you over and over again how you feel to get you to talk about whatever is on my mind yet right now you can’t seem to stop crying. You sniffled back some tears, “But we can’t be open about it. I still have a couple months before I graduate.”

“I know,” Taehyung said, “But I’ve sent in my resignation le—“

“What!?” You sat up and pushed away from him, “You said everything would be fine.”

“It will be, Y/n. I promise. I’ve gotten a lot of job offers from other people in the industry and they would easily take me and pay more. I was originally going to quit after the divorce but I didn’t. The only reason why I stayed the extra year is because I had some really good artist’s in their final year who I wanted to support,” Taehyung said and you knew one of them was you. The others probably included Seungjin and other classmates that Taehyung mentored but it was very clear right now he was talking about you.

“Anyway, I planned on leaving all along and even if Jihyun never says anything about us, I would still leave after you graduate,” Taehyung pet your hair soothingly, “And like I said I’m not going to let her ruin you if she’s tries to so please don’t cry anymore and please baby, please don’t ignore me or push me away.”

Nothing he said was a lie. The only reason why he never brought it up to you was because he didn’t need to. He knew you would be graduating and if your relationship lasted then he would tell you about his resignation once you were done with school. He just didn’t think he would have to tell you like this and make you think you’re the reason his career is about to change.

He waited an entire year to decide he wanted to quit teaching but it’s what he wanted to do all along. He enjoys it but he wants to start fresh… with you. He doesn’t want to have to listen to the opinion of others when the two of you become public.

“You love me?” You asked with the cutest set of puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen that it made his heart feel like it would burst. He nodded his head to answer your question and you sniffled, “I love you too.”

A small laugh in relief left his lips as he hugged you close making you whine about wetting his shirt with your stupid crying. You were so perfect to him. You were confident and forward yet deep down you were a crybaby and needy and loveable and he really did love you. He hugged you tighter in his arms.

“I know you hate it when I call you cute but you’re so fucking cute,” Taehyung said as he kissed your hair, “And I love you so much and I would never want to change the way we got together or make you feel like you’re not important to me because you are.”

He looked down at you with loving eyes, “And I don’t want to keep this a secret anymore.”

In the end Jihyun never told anyone. She figured she owed it to Taehyung after being so shitty the last few years. It had hurt her to watch him be happy with someone else but from the moment she saw you two at the restaurant she knew you made him happy. She couldn’t take that away from him after what she had done.

::.

ok yayyyy finallt part 2 is done. this is in fact the final part so pls understand. feel free to send in asks about them or drabbles

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#kim taehyung #taehyung smut #bts taehyung #taehyung au #taehyung drabble #taehyung #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung bts #Taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung fic #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #his special secret

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samodivaa · 8 months

Text

Words don’t trigger him, emotions do

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Anger, resentment and especially, jealousy—those emotions were all he knew while you both spent decades at Hydra.

Warnings- angst, jealously, mental struggles, smut, possessive sex, love bites

Words- 3400

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And his love has its own dark morality when rivalry enters in, when another man dares to flirt with you and Bucky shall show well what he shows best.

“Hello, snowflake" he says "Hope I'm...interrupting”

There is an intonation so bitter and so imperative that the man who you are talking with shallows hard. The words which are set in the air—in themselves they are simple and sweet. But his jealousy, protectiveness are a living thing. Shifting, changing, growing.

"Do you know the man?" he asks politely, blue eyes burning with violence.

There is a natural comorbidity between possessiveness and jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill.

„Yeah, I do,“ you reply and Bucky feels alone in the moment your eyes break contact—and in a fever, among the walls of the bar, he looks around too, a thickening twilight peeps out in his mind.

"Who is he?" he asks in a pleasant but cold voice, now clearly less friendly than before.

„It doesn’t matter“ you smile softly, that sentence is a uttered curse to Bucky’s ears. Immediately, his guard is up.

Bucky is silent for a moment, suffocated by the situation, ringing in his ears, and the heart—it will bust.

The simplicity of your answer spreads as frost, closing off the light of his eyes. His mind starts racing once again, a nameless emotion has nested in Bucky – who is that guy?

Bucky sits on your left side before he leans on the counter next to you, with his metal hand and puts his right one on his tight, closer to his gun strapped there.

You know him, you know that behavior— this yearning to protect, tearing at his insides like hunger and thirst. It is not love. Love is warm and soft, like a bed of leaves. But this is dark, like the shade under a poisonous shrub, and it is hungry. So hungry.

You know its' name—Winter.

You're stuck with him. Not for a few decades, not for centuries. You're tied to him forever. That's why you are good at putting out his flame before it grows—the frame he still carries from the past.

Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, apart from its inconvenience there's even something touching about it—his starless nights eyes—his face, as if it has been a dial cut in impassive stone, the dwindling of life.

You are equipped to handle what he has, both past and present—package deal of both. In other words, you have been assigned a load you can handle.

“Bucky-”

“Let's go home, it’s getting late” he interrupts, in a soft, vicious voice.

“Give me ten minutes”

He feels like a thread has come between you when he hears your answer, tugging, tugging at his heart—so hard, it hurts him.

You glare at each other. He closes his eyes, because there is a petulant woundedness with which he stares back at you.

Neither of you say a word until Bucky moves, leaning back against the counter, and folding his arms over his chest. It takes all his concentration, to keep from ripping out this man’s throat. But Bucky shoves the familiar fury down, to the place where he stifles Winter's power.

“Okay”

He says as he looks over to the man, and wants him to say something mean so he would have an excuse to shoot him. Bucky is something dark and beautiful, in conflict with what he shows to the world and what he truly feels inside, it is hard to control it.

A worry deep in you stir, but you ignore it for now, pushing it down as best you can with the distraction of music and whiskey.

You fully turn to the man and all Bucky wants is your full attention. He wants your gaze to stay fixed on him, only him. He wants to stare into those beautiful eyes for as long as he lives.

Every avalanche begins with the movement of a single snowflake, and you are this Snowflake tonight.

When the ten minute mark hits you hear a quiet screeching sound—he has carved a small heart on the counter with his index metal finger—you can’t believe how jealousy has him gagging, his blue eyes are clouded before he lowers his gaze to the floor.

Snow is super soft, bottomless and amazingly light, yet supportive—until you take a wrong turn and feel every crystal reacting within your soul, suffocating you. Bucky has lost himself in the emotional storm: it takes so little this time, to put fuel in his cynical heart.

“Bucky…” you whisper and your eyes meet, his actual humanity can’t seem to triumph over the rage and jealousy this time, something you hardly imagine in your wildest dreams.

And this is the secret you both share—the kind you don't dare to let out—Words don't trigger him, but emotions do. You can’t leave them unnoticed, unattended and unsolved.

“Let's head home”

Your language has been lost for so long at Hydra. But not the gestures. It is almost comforting, this mutual acceptance of understanding each other without the need for words.

He maintains his silence, but he slowly gets up—he doesn’t look back, he knows you are following him closely. Of course you do, but you think about what has just happened

While you were looking into his eyes, there were fragments of his inner struggle that were deeply repressed—he always tries to repress the past. It’s hard to distinguish if they were buried inside because dealing with them was such dirty work, or if he was ashamed to voice them.

The truth is that he would rather dig his own heart out, with a knife, than admit it. A while ago he let you know that it's hard to control certain emotions—but he didn’t want to throw his intimacy in front of you, especially when he cares.

But nothing stays secret forever

You are trying to heal too, but, finally, there are things which he is afraid to divulge even to himself—he needs you, he needs your reassurance, he feels like someone will snatch you from his hands, damn his split personalities and untrustworthy habits from the past, but he can’t help it, it scares him.

You are both unearthed by deception, torture, brainwashing, whose essence was shrouded by Hydra—your own father naming the Winter Soldier program after his own daughter, you, stringing you with Bucky together—the yearning theme of your life.

After you escaped Hydra, you went your separate ways until he came back to you, searching for someone who understands him.

That was a year ago.

The more he thinks about it, the more he wants you, the more my desire rises and swells—

“Bucky” He shakes his head in exasperation, not stopping as he climbs the stairs to your shared apartment, aiming for the door, but he can’t stay with you, not when he is not fully himself “Bucky, stop, talk to me”

You have known him for so long, you can see the pride through his words, the truth through his silence, and the anger through his smile.

Always.

“Soldat“ he turns to you, perusing your body as he comes to stand in front of you, his abysses as deep as those of love, finally meet yours.

That realization takes about a nanosecond to register in Bucky’s brain before the real important information comes to the forefront—you’ve noticed.

He lowers his head toward you, so you could feel his breath warm against your skin, your mouths only inches apart

“Why did you call me that?”

He has no answer nor idea, just a never-ending list of questions, he is searching for a loophole that increasingly feels like a noose—he denies it, he tries to—you are not entitled to exposing him like that.

How hollow is it for him to have no secrets left—Bucky's love gives, and Soldat's lust takes.

His gaze, improper, is the most sensual thing he can have done at this moment, and it jolts your heart into a strange rhythm as you speak

“Tell me, how can I help?” You put your hands on his chest, your eyes still locked and an unwelcome sensation pierces you.

“You already know” he says thoughtfully as his cool gaze devours you “snezinka” (snowflake) and his lusty grin when he says that, it's sinful—and pleasurable.

“There is nothing to worry about. Do whatever you want to make yourself feel better” All you want to do is make him feel better, to drown his worries in your embrace.

Both shame and worry drown themselves in the dark eyes that stare back at him.

You.

Only you.

Bucky dreads this power you have over him.

Everything you say is exceedingly obvious, and undoubtedly true, but he feels that something more obscure, more frightening lurks in the back of your mind.

You don’t halt the hands he lays on your waist when he pushes you, backing you into the door.

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1968–1969, Zhao Jianmin Spy Case

„That is going to be mass murder, send them together.“

This mission is a long, never-ending massacre, it never ends.

He is lost in your eyes, it’s eating him alive.

Corpses fill the floor, the sight of gore is peaceful in your corrupted existence. He becomes obsessed in this moment of solitude with you, he has the need to touch you and you respond with a kiss, blood all over your face.

Your wretched fate is shared, your need for touch also.

Winter’s lust betrays him as he pushes you against the wall, feasting on your lips and neck, his hands running up and down your back.

“Relax, Winter” you giggle as you gently press your fingers into his shoulders, forcing him to break the kiss as he looms over you- waiting with a predatory grin.

„I need you, Samodiva“ he slurs, eyebrows furrowed as he glances up at you. His trembling fingers touch the strings in vain, wanting to find the right notes from the fading memory, Soldat wants his soul to vibrate again; with lust, with love.

He knows you feel his arousal, your closeness causing him to grow hard, inhaling sharply, enjoying the sensations you are eliciting in him.

“I need you, too” you finally answer without faltering.

This is all Soldat needs to hear - his tongue flicking lightly over your neck once again, tracing the skin slowly, eliciting a moan from your lips, bodies acting on instinct.

A soft squeak escapes your puffy lips, the tension building up in your body too fast, too soon. Winter puts his hands around your waist, your pants already unbuckled, surrendered to him.

He wastes no time, there's no time left… his hands suddenly drop to his own pants, popping the button open and then pulling down the zipper.

The feeling of your insides drains all of his self power to not come on the first trust, he moves at an excruciating slowly pace, fucking you into the bloodstained walls, there is a glimpse of human nature when you fill the room with moans.

„I am yours,“ he whispers, his words sending a series of chills through her.

This is about him, not you, this is what he needs.

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“1968, do you remember?“ he groans as he brushes his mouth against your cheek. The plea in his tone floods your veins with a whole different form of power “Just say no, snezinka-”

“This is exactly what I want“ you counter. As you arch your back, pressing the tips of your breasts against his chest, closing your eyes at the whisper of a kiss, at the hunger that ravages inside you.

He leans down more, his mouth only inches from yours. “Fuck,” the barely leashes growl of his voice rumbles up through his chest, and every nerve ending in your body flares to life.

Bucky loves seeing you pinned to the door—his control balancing precariously on the point of a knife. He tightens his hands holding you even closer, until your chest is pressed against his own, you can feel his hard cock pressing between your bodies.

All he needs is one push.

And you are about to shamelessly shove.

“Come on, I can take it” you tilt your head up to his and draw his bottom lip between yours, sucking before gently nipping him with your teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, okay” He speaks against your throat and finishes one languorous stroke up the column of your neck.

It breaches something within him, and he gives in.

Finally, mouths collides, and the kiss is hot and hard—it invades his body, abolishing any constraints and bringing to life the desire for you. It grounds him firmly in the moment and drags his body in it, too—Bucky wants to be the only thing touching you, the only thing that touches you ever again. He is kissing the shell of your ear, nipping at it gently and then soothing the nips with soft kisses.

Rage. Lust. Jealousy. Past. Preset. Every day is a reminder of how nothing stays the same, every day an exercise in variability, resilience, understating and trust.

You love the seasons, but, you must admit—at the risk of offending the others—Winter is your very favorite one. What a beautiful madness, to explore the darkness in his old self and find joy in the unearthing of such a wicked past.

He craves you, he kisses you again.

When your mouth touches his, it is like a blade glancing off metal—the darkness inside him briefly lights up with violence and rage before the emptiness comes flooding in like a black lake—you see it in his eyes.

“Let’s get inside '' he hears your whisper and he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers. He might be lust-intoxicated, but he always cares.

Tonight, you have successfully deflected his attention from the gloomy thoughts and the contemplation of his past—his lust rushes, but his love makes him wait.

His love lasted for decades—will last for a lifetime.

Awash with trepidation, you two manage to get into the apartment, but the moment you lock the door—your back is against the wall again.

All those desires Bucky has felt in passing have culminated, growing deeper, hungrier, darker—he can do whatever he wants with you.

That through alone causes trouble below his belt.

He pulls his shirt over his head, the sight of his sculpted muscles, crisscrossed with countless scars. They have the strange power to remind you both that the past is real.

Bucky’s hands languidly roam the curves and valleys of your body as his kisses became sensual, slow and deep. There is such a luster in his eyes that you have to look away, but when you look back at him, his gaze hasn’t moved, still focused on your face.

Then he shifts his mouth to your neck for a hard love-bite that makes you cry out— the need to possess you, to claim you, he never did that before.

But even though you feel his erection stir as you press your hips against his, he doesn't attempt to resume the lovemaking in full, he catches you around your slender waist again and brings you close to whisper teasingly in your ear

“Ты - моя, слышишь?”

You begin to feel a familiar wetness form between your legs.

“Bucky,” you call out, impatient with desire.

But that exact position triggers so much delight, of the heated memory—he has all the time in the world, not as the last time.

He kisses you like he has forgotten how your mouth tastes—with a curious childish delight, kisses like wants to take you dancing.

As you pull apart, you remove your own shirt and his teeth scraping down the skin of your neck, his hands sliding around back to remove your bra, tossing it aside.

His right hand makes its way up, passing over a mark left by a bullet—your cheeks heat, and your breath hitches, but you can’t look away, you follow his hand with your eyes.

“I was not there when you got shot” he says as his fingertip skims the top of your breasts “When was that?” he uses the vibranium arm to lift one of the long locks of your hair to his lips and inhales the scent.

“It doesn’t matter”

And maybe you are right, but it stands as a reminder yet again of how you too escaped death's touch before. It was almost...normal for you back then.

Bucky takes a breast into his mouth to suck at it vigorously as you shiver in his grasp, the metal hand sides down to your waist to keep you against the wall.

You let out a small moan as you feel his hardness tighten and press even more insistently against you.

You worm your hands between your bodies, opening his jeans, freeing his length from the confines of his boxer-briefs, then reaching in to caress it and he burying his face in your neck to stifle his groan.

Bucky shudders when when you take him in your hand, stroking him painfully slowly. He allows it for several moments before hiking up the skirt of your dress to quickly tear your damp underwear.

He rubs a hand down your leg, fingers curling behind your knee and pulls it to his hip.

You instinctively jump, he catches you, abandoning his attempts of fingering you in favor of grabbing your hips, and you moan as you wrap your legs around his waist.

He loves you.

He loves you because nature wills it as it did for decades.

Because you are already long united by the past.

The bare flesh on every part of you always belonged to him, the scent emitting from your skin is his—he loves you, but he doesn't dare tell you that.

You have become Bucky’s favorite hiding place over the past year, the place he put every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, you keep him safe.

You have possessed him—and you never knew it.

He has been dependent on exactly how close he can have you next to him, how long he can get to stay at your apartment—making various excuses every time until you suggested to him to move in with you two months ago.

“Bucky,”

you tighten your legs around his waist, urging him to continue, running your hands over his shoulders.

Your voice pulls him out of what was ravaging in his mind, all those thoughts, but then he kisses as he roughly inserted his cock with no warning, you let out a surprised gasp as his forehead falls to your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips and pressing you against the wall more firmly when he bottoms out, moaning shamelessly at the feeling of your body against him.

You are made for him, made for fucking.

“I love biting you, I need it” his voice is brittle, not saying anything else.

You stare like he is something you can’t comprehend, something unexpected – willingly admitting.

Your fingers thread gently through his hair and you can’t help, but hang your jaw in bewilderment at the sight before—he is falling apart from the need to claim you, to reach the white-hot ecstasy.

You have never seen him like that.

He bites his way along your jaw to the base of your throat. His mouth is hard and punishing, lathering your skin with marks—ferocity burns in his gaze promising something primal—thrusting into you wildly, trying to elongate your pleasure for as long as possible, but suddenly he is choking on moans as waves of climatic bliss are sent throughout his body.

This is about him, not you, this is what he needs.

This night you learn about his jealousy, it has you starving to learn more about this side of him. A new hunger that you know you will satisfy only with time.

His steel blue eyes hide a nearly irresistible urge to claim you—it’s hard for Bucky to control it when the incurable desolation of Winter exaggerates in displaying old emotions.

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frannyzooey · 2 months

Text

The Date

Marcus Moreno x f!college student, The Secret Universe

Rating: E, age gap, heavy daddy kink y'all -- they are exploring it together ❤

A/N: all the thanks in the world goes to @the-scandalorian who reassures me every time I am worried the smut is not hitting -- your comments in the doc keep me going. thank you ❤ a special dedication to @swiftispunk who was really brave earlier this week and not only inspired me with that bravery, but also deserves a treat for it ❤

The door of the coffee shop swings open, cold air skimming across your back. Shifting your chair to angle yourself away from it, you glance down at your phone as it rings.

Marcus

Swiping right, you answer.

“Hi,” you grin.

“Hey, baby.”

His low voice flowing syrupy warm and deep into your ear, you play with the edge of a notebook page, still smiling.

“What’s up?”

“I’m at work, so I don’t have long, but I was calling to see what you’re doing this weekend. I’m free, and I was hoping you might be too?”

“Marcus Moreno. Are you asking me out on a date?” you tease.

You hear a low chuckle through the phone, and you press your finger over your earbud to drown out the espresso machine in the background.

“Yea I am, smart alec.” His scolding is laced with paternal endearment, and you smile wider. “I was thinking I’d pick you up tomorrow night after work?”

“Sure.”

“I gotta run into this meeting,” he says, and you can almost see him hurrying through the hallways, checking his watch. “But pack an overnight bag, okay? And put something pretty in there for me. I’m gonna take you to dinner.”

“Something pretty, huh? Kinda demanding, aren’t you?”

A small smile curls at the edge of your mouth and you can hear him match it with his own when he huffs a laugh, picturing the way his eyes crinkle at the corners with fondness.

“There’s this hotel I always pass on the way up north, with a dinner place underneath. I made a reservation for us.”

You shift in your seat, feeling almost shy. The premeditated planning and the thoughtfulness behind the idea makes you feel cherished, and for a reason you can’t fully explain, feminine. Delicate, meant to be taken care of. This grown man, thinking of you while he’s at the office, making plans to be with you later. Asking you to wear something pretty, just for him.

“That sounds perfect,” you reply. “I’ll pack tonight.”

“Great,” he answers.

His voice slips into something more hushed, as if he’s stepped to the side of a doorway before heading into a meeting room. “I’ll be thinking about you until I see you. Been thinking about you since I booked the room.”

So open with his affection, something stirs deep about the sweet sentiment of the words paired with their true meaning. With what you know he’s been thinking about.

“Oh yea? Anything you want to share with me now, over the phone?”

He lets out a soft, good humored groan. “I wish, baby. I wish I could.”

The sound of his voice coils something deep in your belly, warming you from the inside out. It’s always so overwhelming when he calls you and you have your earbuds in – especially when he lets out those soft groans. Made even more intimate due to the fact that your relationship is still a secret, it makes the low tone of his voice that’s just for you all the more arousing.

“Tell me on the drive up there?” you ask sweetly.

He lets out a slow breath into the receiver, and you close your eyes for a moment.

“Oh believe me, I will. Gotta run though. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You say your goodbye and hang up, your assignment forgotten as you stare out the window with a far away, content expression.

Taking a sip of your latte, you slide into a daydream: an image of him driving, the way his blue dress shirt pulls tight across his shoulders. Him checking into a hotel room, with the sort of casual confidence it requires. The soft brace of his hand on your back as he guides you through the carpeted hallways, the soft click of the door behind you.

Taking another sip of your drink, the images roll on from there; the coffee shop humming with life around you.

–

“Wow,” you say, walking into the room. Turning to him, you give him a shy smile. “Pretty fancy.”

“Yea, it’s not bad, huh.”

He tosses his key card on the dresser, placing your overnight bag down next to it. Clicking on the lamp, he bathes the room in warm, inviting light. The furnishings are understated but luxurious, the king sized bed enormous and lush. The sight of a single bed in the room sends warmth through the cradle of your hips and down, and a rolodex of images flashes quickly through your mind: crisp sheets, sweat slick skin, his broad, bare shoulders hooked under your knees.

His words interrupt your fantasy. “I thought I could let you get ready, and I’ll go down and get us a table? Order us a drink?”

It’s never been this way with anyone else. Something that drew you in from the first time you met him, he’s always been so caring and attentive. Always anticipating the situation and making a clear plan for it, always considering your desires and putting them first. Never to the detriment of his own, but rather alongside his. Because he likes it. Because he can’t help doing it. Like it’s second nature, after spending so many years as a single dad.

Still, every time he offers to do something before you ask, you find yourself touched. So considerate and thoughtful – while booking you a room with the clear intention of doing something depraved in it.

“Don’t take long, okay?” he says, stepping closer. His hands curl around your hips, and you turn to fully face him. Letting your touch find his firm chest, you splay your fingers over the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, warm with his body heat.

“I won’t,” you promise.

Leaning in, he presses a gentle kiss to your mouth, one you chase when he pulls away. Studying your face closely for a moment, his expression softens.

“You know, you can say it here if you want.”

Immediately understanding what he’s referring to, you swallow, vulnerability spreading across your features.

“I want you to,” he softly encourages.

You bite your bottom lip for a moment, hesitating. You haven’t said it since that night in his guestroom, but the memory of it has brought you to release more than once. The word has echoed in your mind for weeks; his lust-soaked groan after you said it fills your mind every time you close your eyes.

The definitive statement of his encouragement gives you courage as he meets you halfway with a vocalization of his own secret want. A seemingly large leap to take, you know he’ll catch you when you fall – he always does.

“Okay,” you agree.

His expression so achingly soft yet with an undercurrent of lust hidden in the depths of his dark eyes, he leans in again, skimming his nose across your cheekbone with a featherlight brush. His hands gently tug your hips closer, and his mouth finds the soft hollow beneath your ear. Pressing a kiss there, he gives you another, and another, his tongue tasting your skin.

Your head lolls to the side, and your eyes slip shut, focusing on the plush, warm give of his mouth.

“Say it,” he whispers, and you melt into him, a heavy ache pooling inside you.

You focus on the wet glide of his tongue and the solid sturdiness of his body in your grip, and the word comes pouring out of your mouth, saturated and soaked with want.

“Daddy.”

A soft groan catches in the back of his throat, the sound pressing into the delicate skin of your neck. His fingers tighten in their hold, and he gives you another lingering kiss. His teeth scrape against the slope of it this time, his mustache tickling your skin and when you let out an involuntarily whimper, his mouth gets more demanding, his grip tightening as he sucks, the bulge of his stiffening cock nudging along the top of your thigh as he flexes his hips towards you –

And then he’s pulling himself back with his eyes closed, a small frown gathered between his brows. Trying to rein his desire in, he lets his forehead rest against yours for a moment, collecting himself with a sigh.

“Good girl,” he praises you, the warm words ghosting humid across your lips.

Your fingers curl into the smooth fabric along his sides, and you resist the urge to tuck your face into the crook of his neck to hide how much the endearment affects you.

You cling to him for a moment, waiting for his body to settle and then he takes a step back, scrubbing his jaw with his hand and blowing out a heavy breath. Swiping the key off the dresser, he pats his pockets to make sure he has everything he needs.

“I’ll be downstairs at the bar.” He takes a step towards the door, and then stops, hesitating. His eyes drop down your body and back up again, taking their time. “Seriously, don’t take long.”

Laughing, you wave him out the door, standing in place with a grin as you watch it close behind him.

–

The white wine he ordered pairs with the delicious food just right, and though you want to eat more, you stop yourself, not wanting to get too full. So you share with him instead, eating off each other’s plates as you talk.

It’s been a couple weeks since you’ve seen him last, and he covers every topic: school, your schedule, how you’ve been spending your free time, what books you’ve been reading. He wants to know it all, just like he seems to want to touch it all, with the way his hands never leave you. The warm weight of his hand on the top of your thigh makes you bold, the proximity of his fingers to your core a bright, beckoning pressure.

You lean in, asking him to name at least one of the things he promised he would tell you in the car.

Watching the waiter come over with a refill of your wine, he whispers in your ear.

“I can’t stop thinking about your pussy. How much I want it.”

The filthy words are a direct contrast to the way he seems so outwardly relaxed and polite, and the words play on a loop in your mind when he presses a gentle kiss just under your ear.

His solid body fits against the length of yours in the booth after you’re finished eating and then again out on the small, intimate dance floor. Feeling bashful at the slightly old fashioned request, you take his hand and let him lead you out to it, winding your arms around his neck.

One of his hands splayed across your lower back with a protective hold, the other one strokes along your side, seeking out the smooth fabric of your dress. Waves of romantic music guide your swaying steps and lightheaded with drink, with happiness and with him, you rest your face at the corner of his jaw, breathing him in.

The picture of romance to anyone observing, you pull back just enough to look at him sweet and soft – before opening your mouth.

“I think I’m ready to go upstairs now.”

His steady gaze just as intoxicating as his charm and attentiveness has been tonight, you hold it and tilt your chin up, lowering your voice even more.

“Take me to bed, daddy.”

The only outward tell of the effect your words have on him are his hands tightening in their hold, but you can feel his body subtly stiffen the way it’s pressed against yours. He waits until the song is done, and then he’s leading you off the dance floor, the weight of his hand resting on your tailbone all the way to your room.

When he steers you inside, you expect him to turn on the lights…but he doesn’t.

His hands cupping your jaw, he kisses you instead.

“You looked so beautiful tonight.”

The words are whispered into the darkness, the only light in the room coming through the sheer curtains. The firmer edges of him meet your softer ones: a deft, skillful handling of your dress as he takes it off, his dry palms skating over your bare skin as he unhooks your bra and tosses it onto the floor, the delicate brush of his fingertips as he slides your panties down your legs and off.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with you standing bare between his spread thighs, there is something so…erotic, about the way he just looks. By contrast, he is still in everything he wore tonight, save for the shoes he slipped off when you walked into the room and you fight the urge to squirm under his attentive, reverential gaze. He takes his time, his hands exploring every slope of your skin he can reach.

“When we were downstairs,” he starts, looking up at you with doleful, heavy lidded eyes, “I just kept thinking about how much I wanted to come back to the room. How much I wanted to undress you and see what was waiting, just for me.”

His touches get heavier, more weighted, slightly more needy when he palms the weight of your breast in his hand and you watch the slow swallow of his throat, a steady throb beating between your thighs. Slick pools sticky and wet along your seam, smearing across his fingertips when he nudges them between the soft skin of your thighs, skating his touch through the silky curls that cover your cunt.

“This is mine, right?” His voice drops into a low husk, his eyes on where he’s touching you.

“Yes,” you answer shakily, trying not to succumb to the weight of your want.

“I wanted so bad to taste this instead of the food we were eating.”

He does then, bringing his fingers to his mouth with a frown and a soft groan and a suck, and you bend at the waist, cupping his jaw to bring his mouth to yours. Kissing him fiercely, you crawl onto his lap.

“Do you want it just as bad as I do, baby?” he breathes, molding his lips against yours. His arm hooks around your back, tugging your body against his. His broad hand settles on your hip, a slight tremble to his hold. “Tell me. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” you confess.

Getting lost in the cool sensation of his clothes against your heated skin, one hand grasps the collar of his shirt, and the other wraps around the nape of his neck. Grinding yourself down onto the stiff heft of his cock, it strains through his pants beneath you. His mouth demands more from yours, and the anticipation that’s been building in you since yesterday when he called breaks, the words rushing out against his lips.

“I want you to eat my pussy, daddy. I want you to taste it.”

Only the third time tonight that you’ve let yourself say it, he growls, flipping you onto your back. Covering you with the weight of his body, he guides your still moving hips against his own with a weighted grind just for a moment, and then he’s pulling himself away to sink to his knees on the side of the bed, tugging you swiftly to the edge.

“Marcus.”

The moan you let out is guttural and loud when he gives your cunt an open mouthed kiss, his head shaking “no” between your legs.

“Sorry, sorry,” you pant. Your fingers slipping through his hair to press him closer, his tongue swirls heavy around your clit, his shoulders spreading you wider as you grind against his face.

“Daddy.”

The rumble of his corresponding groan of approval is felt deep inside you, and there is an urgency that slips into his movements as his grasping hands cup your breasts with a squeeze, smooth down your torso with a weighty drag, and wrap around the back of your knees to push you open wider for him. When you come in his mouth, he buries the bottom half of his face with a groan of satisfaction, letting you ride it out against his chin.

Leaving you breathless and sated for the moment, he stands and strips his clothing quickly. Buttons ripped open and shirt untucked, belt undone before he pushes everything down and off, he impatiently tugs his undershirt over his head before he’s crawling up on the bed to join you. Your eyes drop to his cock, bobbing with weight as he makes his way over to you and you think he’s going to spread your legs to make room for himself, but instead he stretches out alongside you, pulling you in for a kiss.

Your taste thick on his tongue, he waits until you’re restless in your movements against him, and then rolls over on his back, guiding you on top.

He’s a lot like this, in this position. His cock thick to begin with, the stretch of it takes his mouth to get you ready to begin with, but paired with the weight of your body as it presses him deeper inside you, your breathing hitches as you work him in. Overwhelmed with fullness, you squirm on his lap and rocking your hips forward just to feel him slide inside of you, you tip your head back with a moan.

“Daddy.”

His hands envelop your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your peaked nipples. He plays with them, forcing his hips up to meet yours.

“Daddy, please.” You’re begging, but you don’t even know for what.

The sensation of him beneath you and inside you, the relief of saying the name you have for him in your heart. You know he brought you here so you’d feel more comfortable saying it, and so you do. You let the word spill into the dark room, absorbed by the walls – spill, spill, spill out of your mouth just like he does down your throat, tucking himself into the deepest parts of your body.

The quiet intimacy, the warm, dry, comforting hold of his big hands as they move you on top of him, the solid strength in his body between your flexing thighs – it all swirls into something intensely arousing, sending shivers along your skin, your breath catching in your throat.

Your moans are breathless as you start to ride him, pleading for him all the same. “Please daddy. It feels so good.”

Everything centered between your legs, he buries himself to the hilt and makes you grind down on it, filling you to the brim.

“That’s my girl, letting go like that. Do you need more?”

You shake your head, your teeth pulling at your bottom lip as you focus on how deep he is.

“No. No, it’s just – “ Your hips work faster; a groan spilling out of his outstretched throat. The sound makes you look down at him and he is wrecked underneath you. “You feel so good. So good.”

His thumb rubs circles against your clit, a groan crawling out of his chest when you clench hard around him. “I want you to come on it, baby, okay?”

His hair mussed against the white pillow, his glasses askew on the bedside table. His plush mouth, open in a pant as he watches you ride him.

These are things that only you get to see, and similar, contrasting images flash through your mind: his thumb a slick drag over your clit (wrapped around the steering wheel as he drove here), his open mouth, begging just for you (smiling politely at the receptionist as she checked you in), his fingers hooked around his drink tonight at dinner (the same ones that have been buried inside you and tucked into your mouth).

His broad back at the sink as he does the dishes; the same one filling the space between your spread thighs. The voice that makes polite conversation with his coworkers; the husky, filthy orders given to you in the privacy of your room.

This reserved man; this depraved man. This good father who loves to debase his daughter’s best friend.

This unassuming and handsome man with a want cradled within him so deeply that no one can tell — no one but you, who gets the brunt of his tightly held restraint that spills loose every time you’re alone.

No one knows him like this. Only you.

You come on top of him, and then he’s rolling you onto your back again, before sitting back on his heels and tugging you up onto his lap. You don’t even have time to brace yourself before he’s smearing the wet tip of his cock along the curve of your ass, guiding himself to sink back inside your soaked cunt with a groan. The snap of his hips is harsh and hard, your fingers digging into his shoulders for purchase and when you let out a soft sob, his arms wind tightly around you.

Secure and safe, he cradles against his broad chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, and all mine. All mine,” he chants, pressing kisses along the slope of your shoulder.

His hand slides down to rest against your lower back, and when he pushes the weight of his hold along it to grind you harder against him, your back tries to bow with pleasure, but he holds you so tightly you can’t. A couple rocks of his hips upwards that have you trembling against him, and then he’s pushing his hand between your bodies, seeking out your clit.

“Daddy,” you plead, your hand wrapping around his thick wrist as his fingers work, work, work.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praises breathlessly. “Such a good girl. I’m almost there, I just want you to come again. Can my sweet girl come for me again?”

You could – you’re already halfway there with the way he won’t stop playing with your clit while he fucks into you from below, and when you start to come, he holds you even tighter. The air squeezed from your lungs by his strong arm wound around your back and his nails scratch the skin between your shoulder blades as his own groan sounds deep and low over yours.

Pliant and loose on his lap as you come down, you are so wet it’s audible when he fucks half a dozen harsh strokes into you and when he comes, he forces you down onto his lap as tight as he can, his strong grip holding you in place as he floods you with his spend. The heavy rise and fall of his chest matches your own, and you feel the rumble of his deep, sated groans of relief against your sensitive breasts.

Tacky with sweat and the inside of your thighs sore, you shift to move, and his hold tightens.

“Stay,” he pants, hooking his chin over your shoulder to clutch you to him, bowing his head. “Stay.”

–

He’s so boyish when he’s on the verge of sleep.

His features lax, the wrinkles that surround his eyes softened. You play with the curls at the nape of his neck, the action soothing to both of you.

You think of how neat his hair is normally styled, and how much you like seeing this version more. Always so buttoned up for everyone else – so reserved, so polite and kind – and yet so undone, just for you. Flushed cheeks, loose curls, bright eyes flashing in the darkness.

Only you know what he looks like when he comes.

Only you know that he likes being your daddy.

A tide of gratefulness swells in your chest, and you whisper to him in the darkness.

“I love you.”

He stirs, lifting his arm to cover you with the weight of it. “Come here.”

You tuck yourself in along his body and when you’re shielded by the width of him, he presses a kiss to your temple, and then the apple of your cheek, pressing you closer.

“My sweet girl.” His words slur, his tone softening as he slips away. “I love you too.”

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno/you #marcus moreno/reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fic

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venusrising91 · 3 months

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Noise Complaint

Pairing: Wonho x Male reader

Genre: Smut, enemies to lovers/hate to love (no plot just vibezzzz)

Summary: Your new nextdoor neighbor, Wonho (Lee-ho) is a loud, inconsiderate gym rat. He keeps you up all hours of the night with his seedy escapades and you're sick of it.

Word count: 2,014 (2 pages)

T/W: aggression, physical violence

It was 4am and you had work at 8, yet rest was as far from your reach as the sun would be once it rose.

Short hours.

You had short hours to get some much needed sleep. But no matter how hard you’d tried, you hadn’t been able to reach the REM state and it was all thanks to your obnoxious, ridiculously muscular neighbor, Lee-ho.

For the third time this week, giggling voices and blaring music, followed by high-pitched moans had kept you wide awake. Usually, after one or two rounds with whatever girl he’d picked up scouring city night clubs, the mewls and slaps and yes daddys would subside, and you could finally drift. But tonight, he seemed to have endless energy. You heard his date come four times. Back to back.

It was almost 6:30 by the time they wore themselves out.

You’d barely slept. At the office, you struggled to keep your eyes open, staring through slits at the charts on your computer. The project manager noticed you nodding and called you into her office after the meeting. As head graphic designer, you were expected to oversee and execute this assignment—because securing this client would ensure you a raise next quarter, but the arrival of your new neighbor had thrown a wrench in your performance.

She threatened to take you off the project and her disappointment was all you could think about on your commute back home.

In the apartment lobby, you pressed the button on the elevator console so hard it nearly jammed.

“Sup bruh.” You whipped your head around and there was Lee-ho, all 6 feet of him, donned in gym wear and sipping on some colorful drink. You clenched your teeth.

“Hey,” you mumbled back with listless regard.

The elevator doors opened and Lee-ho walked gingerly ahead of you. Before he could step inside however, his cell slipped from his pocket. As he bent you couldn’t help but notice his butt: firm, round, muscled. You tore your eyes away and carded your hair. Inside, the music was soft and unobtrusive. The exact opposite of Lee-ho.

“How you feeling?” he asked, plunging his hands into his pockets.

“Tired.”

He snorted. “Oh yeah, me too.”

“I’m sure you are.” You glared at him, slightly envious of the angle of his jaw, of how much sharper it was than yours. And envious also of the broad span of his chest, his neat features, his lips, his hair. He was by all accounts, an objectively better looking man than you and this only added to your irritation.

“What d’you mean by that?” asked Lee-ho, quirking his brow. He must have sensed your frustration because now he was folding his arms, closing up. You didn’t care.

“You know the walls that separate us are paper thin, right?”

“Yeah, and?”

The doors slid open on your floor. “I can hear everything. All the time.” You stepped out before him, stalking down the hallway.

“My bad, dude. I’ll keep it down,” he shouted after you. There was a smug air about his tone and you ignored him as you shoved your key into the lock. It was only 7pm but you were exhausted. After a quick dinner of leftover pasta, and an even quicker shower, you went to bed, desperate to get back the hours you’d lost. You drifted in minutes, sleeping soundly, until loud music and moans yanked you from your dreams at 2am.

You leapt from the bed, pulling on a robe, not bothering to tie it. It took less than two minutes for you to reach Lee-ho’s door. You pounded on it furiously, on and on, until he swung it open. For a moment, each of you stood silently observing one another. He was fully nude, sweating and cupping his genitals as his eyes swept over you. They lingered on your chest, you noted, then trailed up to meet your gaze. Despite your robe, you felt suddenly bare, and exposed. Quickly you tied it, covering yourself from him.

“What the fuck, dude?” said Lee-ho.

“Keep it down.”

“Yeah and what if I don’t?”

“I’ll write a formal complaint. You're violating code of conduct with this shit. Some of us have actual jobs, you know?”

“I have a job.”

“Gym bro influencer and fuckboy does not an occupation make.” This was rude, and uncalled for. But you were sleep deprived. Lee-ho's shoulders slumped down a measure—he appeared somewhat diminished in the face of the insult and you almost felt bad for him. Your eyes fell on his abs however, and then, without meaning to, dipped even lower, catching a glimpse of what was too large to be completely covered by his palm. Even his cock was better than yours—he didn’t need your pity. Without waiting for a retort, you turned and stormed down the hall.

Back in your bedroom, the beginnings of an erection tugged at the tender flesh between your legs. And by the time you lay back in bed, you were rock-hard, and aching.

In the morning you shaved and contemplated calling out, but you really couldn’t afford to. At work, you tried to concentrate but all you could think of was Lee-ho, of his throbbing head, peeking up from behind his hand in the middle of the doorway. You didn’t like men. At least you thought you didn’t. You’d had a few girlfriends in the past and once or twice thought about experimenting with a guy back in college but no one ever drew you in. No one ever attracted you the way—

Enough, you weren’t doing this. What were you thinking? You weren’t into dudes and especially not ones you despised as much as Lee-ho. He probably never had to work for anything a day in his life. Just had to show up and collect everyone's praise and adulation.

Prick.

Back at the apartment, you took the stairs to avoid crossing paths with him. Thankfully it was Friday, and you could catch up on your shows without feeling guilty for missing the sleep that was so hard to come by lately.

After dinner and a shower, you binged a season of a new show on Netflix, and dozed off halfway through. But a short while later, a sharp knock on the door jolted you awake.

You shuffled to it, half-dazed. Waiting on the other side was Lee-ho, glaring a hole through your forehead.

“You know, you’re a real asshole?” he declared.

“Could say the same about you.”

“What you said the other night—you don’t talk to people like that. I want an apology.”

You scoffed and made to shut the door. But he stopped it, forcing it open. “Get off the door and fuck off,” you clipped.

“Or what?”

Impulse and anger drove you to shove him, which was stupid. His arms alone were twice the size of yours. He shoved you back and you stumbled into your apartment. Lee-ho stepped over the threshold, letting the door slam behind him. Then his hands were on you again, crashing into your chest. It knocked the air from your lungs. Enraged, you swung and missed. He caught it and wrapped his hand around your throat, pinning you against a wall. His face was inches from yours as he strangled you, but slowly, his grip loosened. Each of you were panting. He smelled expensive, like Tom Ford—the scent filled you, clouded your head and senses. His breath on you was warm, his lips resting short inches from yours. He brought them even closer, until the tips of your noses were grazing.

“What are you doing?” you whispered.

“I—I’m not—I’m straight but…your…” he trailed off, hand sliding across your chest.

“You wanna fuck me, that it?” Neither of you said a word, only stood there, gazing, panting. Then your hand traveled down, until it landed on his crotch. You palmed his cock, and found it was already hard for you. After the other night, you couldn’t get it out of your mind. Once it was in your mouth, he made the most helpless sounds, cupping your head and guiding you as you swallowed it again and again.

“Fuck, your throat feels s-so good,” mewled Lee-ho. You fought against your gag reflex, getting harder each time he shoved it in, down to the hilt. Your eyes watered. You never thought the taste of cock could turn you on this much. Women were lovely and all but this was something else entirely. It was like satisfying some primal urge you never knew existed until now. You squeezed his balls gently, sucking him all the while. He came in minutes and stood over you shivering as the orgasm rippled through him.

You rose, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Lee-ho dropped to his knees, pulling down your boxers. He took you in his mouth and it felt like the world stopped spinning. His tongue swirled around the tip, one hand cradling your heavy balls, the other gripping your ass, a finger seeking the rosebud. He tried to slip it in but you panicked, bucking away like a spooked horse.

“I thought you said you were straight?” you whispered.

He popped your cock from his warm mouth. You twitched as he smirked up at you. “Chicks like it sometimes. I figured you might wanna give it a try. Feels tight though, got any lube?”

You hesitated, wondering what it would be like to have his finger circling inside you. There was nothing but heat and silence as you stared down at him. “In the bedroom,” you said, breathlessly.

As you lay on your back watching his chiseled body shift in the dim light, he slathered the lube you kept in your bedside drawer onto his middle finger. Then he drizzled some over your erection, spreading it with long strokes.

“Fuuuuuck,” you whined, arching at the pleasure, at the way he gripped you.

“You like that?” With this, he slid a finger inside you, taking it slow. The pressure had you arching even more. Once he eased you past the initial pain, all you could do was moan and claw and look down at your rock-hard cock as he pumped you in two places, at different paces. In the front he squeezed tight, giving you fast, steady strokes, but in that pulsing spot between your cheeks he worked you soft and deep, taking his time as his finger explored your depths. The pressure was glorious, and you felt your entrance contracting around him. “You’re dripping for me,” he cooed. You looked down at yourself as he gripped the base, a long rope dangling from the tip onto your stomach. He licked it, dragging the pad of his tongue along your abs, then swallowed you whole. After a few hard sucks he pulled back, finger still buried in you, coaxing out spasms you couldn't control. Fuck he was so attractive, you never thought a man could make you feel this good.

The next moment, you were shooting ropes in the air, convulsing under him and fisting the sheets as he drained you. He let you pant there, chest heaving, before taking your length back into his mouth. He sucked and finger-fucked you through your sensitivity, ignoring your loud moans and cries. You asked him to stop but you didn’t mean it. You wanted more and he gave it to you. All night. After your third orgasm you could barely stay conscious.

Lee-ho crept beside you, watching as you shivered your way through the leavings of your latest high.

“I’m s-sorry,” you muttered between waves of it, “about the other day. You’re right, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.”

He chuckled. “It’s fine. I’ll be quiet from now on, promise.”

You couldn’t quite keep your eyes open, and drifted then, still tingling from what he'd done to you. Your rest went uninterrupted for the first time in weeks. But when you woke, Lee-ho was gone.

From then on, the noise had stopped, just like he'd promised. But a few times a week, just before bed, there came a knock at your door, and a smirking, half-naked Lee-ho waiting on the other side of it.

#wonho imagines #lee wonho #lee hoseok #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #shin wonho #lee hoseok smut #monstax smut #monsta x wonho #kpop x you #kpop x y/n #wonho x reader #wonho x you #yaoi #bl manhwa #mm romance #male reader

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ihavemanyhusbands · 9 months

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The Black Kaiser's Nightmare

Duncan Vizla x Assassin!FemReader

A/N: Shout out to beelmons and G for their endless support and help with my fics <3 :') where would I be without y'all?

Summary: You run into your long-time nemesis in the last place you ever expected, but things take a turn for the worst when you find yourself stuck with him during a snowstorm.

WC: 7.2k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), enemies to lovers speedrun into the bed, mentions and depictions of violence, fighting, accidental assassination of a third party, some serious bickering, abundant cursing, rough sex (unprotected, don't do it at home!), choking, very light knifeplay, dirty talk, slight degradation mixed with some praise, rampant sexual tension, ooey gooey lovesick fools who are just SO SO STUBBORN, I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything!

You are responsible for your own media consumption!

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Triple Oak, Montana.

It’d been a while since you’d last found yourself in such a quaint little town, especially in the middle of winter, but you supposed you’d been in way worse places. It was barely even on the map, which made it a convenient place to lay low.

You didn’t have to worry about interacting with many people, and you sure as hell didn’t think you’d encounter anyone you knew. At least for the time being, you felt like you could relax just a little bit while you made plans.

In a few more days, you’d continue driving north and cross the Canadian border into Saskatchewan, where you were meant to carry out your next assignment. Your target was a skeevy arms dealer that had to move his whole operation out of Serbia and was now shacked up somewhere in the vast prairies.

You’d been tracking his activity for some time, slowly narrowing down the list of possible locations. You’d also scored some insider information about a big upcoming transaction with a terrorist cell, and your goal was to get to him before the sale was finalized.

Successfully eliminating him would pay handsomely, and you were already planning on a months-long vacation in which you’d go fully off the radar. Preferably somewhere by the beach, where you didn’t feel the constant threat of frostbite.

You pulled into a small gas station — the only one to be found in a long stretch of the highway between the town and more secluded cabins — and occupied one of the three measly pumps. There was only one other old pickup truck next to you, but the owner was nowhere to be seen.

You blew hot air into your hands as you walked into the convenience store, eager for some coffee despite how shitty it was.

“Hey Lou,” you said to the now familiar attendant, the little bell above the door ringing as you pushed in. “How’s it goin’?”

“Eh, slow, the usual,” he shrugged. “At least it’s decently warm in ‘ere. They say there’s gonna be a snowstorm over the weekend, starting tonight.”

“Shit, really?” You groaned, not only because you loathed the freezing temperatures, but because it would set you back by a few more days.

“Yup, perfect time to cozy up with the missus back at home.”

You poured yourself a large cup of black coffee and snapped the lid on top. On the way back to the register, you grabbed a couple of magazines and a pack of Ding-Dongs to eat on the road.

“Well, lucky you,” you said, putting everything on the counter. “I gotta find ways to keep myself busy and warm in case I lose power.”

As you spoke, the door to the restroom opened behind you and a tall, rugged-looking man stepped out. His eyes instinctively flickered between the two of you, even if he couldn’t see your face. He lingered close to the back, trying not to bring attention to himself.

“You sure you’ll be good all by yourself out there?” Lou asked. “Enough supplies and all?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself,” you said, fishing cash out of your wallet. “Give me thirty on number two, also.”

“You got it, tough gal.”

You chuckled as he rang you up, glancing outside. The man behind you tensed, gripped with the dread that came with sudden recognition. Your voice was one he knew well, the very same one he’d heard all seventeen times he’d almost died. Well, eighteen if he counted that one brief altercation in Belfast.

And that laugh… How many times had it been directed at him? Taunting him, teasing him, driving him utterly mad.

It was perhaps the only thing that stopped him from actually getting rid of you that one night you slept so soundly at some shoddy little hotel in Madrid. He’d watched your chest's steady rise and fall from his spot in the darkness, and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

And now he’d most likely have to pay for the consequences of his mercy.

Lou looked over your shoulder at him, but you didn’t immediately notice since you were absently flipping through one of the magazines.

“Need anything else, Duncan?” He offered. “Pack of Winstons?”

Your skin prickled at these two very familiar details, but you didn’t move, still staring down at the magazine without actually reading. It was probably a mere coincidence. Really, there had to be dozens of Duncans in the world that just so happened to smoke Winstons.

But then, a very particular smell reached your nose — cheap cologne you didn’t know the name of, with strikingly bitter notes that had flooded your nostrils when his hands were tightly wrapped around your neck.

You glanced up at the fisheye mirror above the register… and there he fucking was, in all his deadly glory. The Black Kaiser himself.

You couldn’t help an amused huff, especially after hearing the faintest rustle of a knife being unsheathed under his coat.

“Are you sure you want to stab me with that, old man?” You said slowly over your shoulder.

“Less impersonal than a gun. I owe you that much, don’t I?” he said with that deep, gravelly voice of his that always made a stubborn tingle form at the base of your spine.

Your hand just barely inched towards the hidden holster of your gun. “Oh, but you know I get a little crazy when the knives come out.”

Lou looked between the two of you, confusion and a tinge of fear in his eyes.

“Uh, you two know each oth—”

Before he could finish his sentence, you whirled around and shot Duncan’s head. He ducked, but not before hurling a large knife at you in return. You dove out of the way, hearing it whizz right past your ear, and it sank into Lou’s forehead with a wet thud. His body slumped behind the counter, blood spraying over the stuff you’d intended to buy.

“Hey!” You yelled from your hiding spot. “I didn’t even get my change back!”

“You’re not gonna need it anymore,” he said gruffly, his voice not too far from you. “But before that… want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” you said, glancing up at the fisheye mirror once more.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t get a very good look at where he was, but you couldn’t stay put. You slowly began to inch to the end of the aisle, staying low. “Let me guess, you missed me so much these last three years that you decided to hunt me down.”

He scoffed. “Three years was not nearly long enough time away from you.”

You dove around the corner to the next aisle, but he wasn’t there. You started pulling yourself forward, but suddenly you were flipped onto your back. You were about to whip your gun around, but it was harshly knocked out of your grasp, sliding against the linoleum. You thrashed against the weight that pressed down on you, but he pinned your hands down beside your head.

“Who sent you?” He asked.

“No one sent me, you paranoid geezer!” You sneered, driving your knee up full force right into his crotch. “Not everything’s about you.”

He growled at the pain, swaying to the side, his grip on your hands relaxing. You pushed him off of you, scrambling to get to your gun. Right as you managed to get a hold of it, he was on you again, pulling you back by the legs. You tried twisting around all the way, firing another shot semi-blindly. It narrowly missed his shoulder, shattering one of the windows.

“Can’t kill me without paralyzing me, eh, little Nightmare?” He taunted.

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You swallowed a scream as he stepped on the hand you held your weapon with, his heavy boot cracking your wrist. Your fingers splayed involuntarily due to the pain, and he bent down to take the gun. He kept it pointed at you as he removed his boot from your wrist and grabbed your arm.

“You’re coming with me,” he stated, starting to pull you up.

“Like hell I am!” You spat, but you froze as you felt the barrel pressed against the back of your head.

“You were saying?”

He dragged you to your feet, leading you through the broken window, glass crunching under your boots. The wind seemed icier than it had been when you first arrived, which made you remember Lou’s warning about a snowstorm.

There was no way in hell you’d be stuck with him during it, so you’d have to find a way to weasel out of his grasp… and kill him in the process.

He led you towards his truck, but you pretended to trip at the last second, bending down and retrieving a knife you had hidden in your boot. You stabbed backward, aiming for his femoral artery, but he moved and the knife stabbed into his thigh muscle instead.

“Motherfucker,” he hissed through clenched teeth, but he didn’t let go of you, tightening his grip on your arm. He fired off a warning shot into the air, which made you flinch a little. “Try me again and I won’t hesitate to put the next bullet through your thick fucking skull. I only have so much patience.”

He shoved you into the passenger seat of the truck, managing to tie you up with the seatbelt. Your bound hands were still slick with his blood, and you smiled triumphantly at him as he slid into the driver’s seat, immediately peeling out of the gas station.

“This is what gets you hard, isn’t it?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re kind of a sick fuck, old man… but I didn’t expect any better from you.”

He said nothing, instead momentarily glaring at you. He grunted as he pulled the knife out of his leg, tossing it out of the window. You grumbled about him owing you a knife, but he continued to ignore you. He drove mostly in silence, winding through the icy roads as he gripped his wounded leg with one hand.

So far, it had been one of your tamest encounters. Really, it had all sort of felt like a game, but neither of you had won quite yet. After all, a game such as this could not be left unfinished.

Usually, the circumstances were vastly different. Your respective agencies had assigned you the same target a couple of times, and it always turned into a competition on who would finish the job first. As it turned out, the two of you were very competitive.

You’d left plenty of souvenirs on each other every single time you crossed paths – broken bones, an assortment of scars, and bruises as dark as the midnight sky. You wondered vaguely how much more damage you might make by the end of the day.

Why neither of you had succeeded in killing each other was… a bit of a mystery. Maybe he saw something in you that reminded him of himself, or perhaps he was growing soft with age. He would never admit it, but he’d had plenty of fun in this deadly dance with you so far, and it seemed a shame to let it come to its conclusion so soon.

He’d have to do it though, after some thorough interrogation.

Soon enough, he pulled up a long gravel road hidden among the tall pine trees. In the clearing ahead, you saw what you supposed was his cabin. It was modestly sized and a little dilapidated, but at least it seemed to be sturdy enough to withstand harsh conditions.

“Nice place,” you said sarcastically. “I don’t suppose you have many visitors?”

“Rarely,” he said without looking at you. “I like the quiet. No one’s going to bother us here.”

“You mean no one’s gonna come running when you scream?”

He grunted, readjusting his position in his seat. You were mostly tied up at the arms so your legs had some room to move. Rookie mistake on his part, which you would definitely take advantage of.

Before he could pull up in front of the actual cabin, you leaned back and kicked at the steering wheel. The truck swerved to the right, throwing you against the window. He tried to correct it on time, slamming on the brakes, but the snow made it careen right into a tree.

It wasn’t a tremendous crash, but the windshield still broke, glass raining down on both of you. You were both disoriented for a moment from the whiplash, but then you began to untangle yourself from the seatbelt. You kicked at him when he tried to reach for you, but he managed to pin your legs down.

“Can’t you stay put for one fucking second!?” He growled, fully bracketing you between his sturdy legs as he freed you from the seatbelt.

You panted heavily, trying to thrash beneath him, but he only pressed his legs tighter against your sides. A small, high-pitched whine escaped your lips as you felt the air being squeezed out of you, and you stopped moving.

“Satis…fied?” You managed between gasps.

“Not nearly,” he said, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he pulled back. “Come here.”

He kept a firm grip on it as he dragged you out of the truck and towards the cabin. He wobbled a little with each step, his leg still bleeding some.

“I warned you about the knives,” you said. “Even if you didn’t let me finish having fun.”

He chuckled sardonically. “No, you’re mistaken. The fun is only just beginning.”

He led you inside and locked the door behind him, making you sit down on a rickety chair. He bound your hands and feet with duct tape, wrapping some of it around your torso and the back of the chair for good measure. You decided not to struggle for the time being and instead ponder on your next move, covertly glancing at your surroundings for anything useful.

When Duncan was sure you wouldn’t be able to bolt, he went to grab something from an adjacent room, returning with his version of a first aid kit and a bottle of vodka. He looked at you from the corner of his eye as he undid his pants and lowered them to his knees.

“I didn’t realize it was that kind of fun,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Still, your gaze was drawn to his crotch first before trailing further down to the injury you’d caused. Rolling his eyes, he plopped down on the bed, which creaked a little under his weight.

He took a long swig of vodka and then poured some on the bleeding gash, hissing through his teeth. Your expression of slight amusement didn’t change as he glanced at you once more, taking out a needle and thread.

“I have to be careful about infections, who knows where that knife of yours has been?” he said.

You merely watched as he began stitching himself up without so much as a grimace. His breathing was slow and steady as he concentrated, and you found yourself entranced by the precise movements of his hands.

An obscene thought about those hands wriggled into your mind, but you immediately pushed it away. It was all the more reason for you to get the hell out of there, especially now that his pants were down.

As he was finishing his stitches, you leaned forward onto your tiptoes and then threw yourself back as hard as you could. The chair broke apart under you, the force of the blow and the angle in which you fell spraining one of your wrists. The adrenaline made you barely register the pain, and you quickly wriggled out of the tape wrapped around you.

You pulled a Swiss army knife out of your boot and hastily sawed off the tape binding your ankles. He swore as you stood, lifting your arms and slamming them down to free your hands. You stumbled towards the front door and yanked it open.

Outside, the wind howled ferociously and a thick flurry of snow limited your vision of your surroundings. You felt the unforgiving cold slicing through you as you hesitated, knowing deep down that your chances of survival were very slim.

Still, you were reckless enough to try and brave it. You started towards the steps when you were yanked back once more, your back pinned against the wall and Duncan’s hand around your throat.

“You just don’t fucking learn, do you?” He growled.

“You only caught me because I hesitated, old man.”

His grip tightened a little in warning. “Didn’t anybody teach you never to hesitate?”

“There is a very fine line between foolishness and courage, you know…” The corners of your mouth twitched, an amused gleam in your eye. “I wonder how often you cross from one side to the other.”

He clenched his teeth and an absolutely devious, cheshire cat grin spread across your face. The mere sight of it made his blood boil with both rage and arousal, and he felt it flowing southward. Your back instinctually arched towards him, as if you could somehow sense the sudden influx of violent desire, and became infected by it.

You stared at each other for a charged moment before he suddenly fell upon you, intent on devouring you. His lips clashed with yours in a fierce kiss and you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging at it as you retaliated.

You bit his lower lip hard, making him groan into your mouth. You used this opportunity to slide your tongue against his, and he moved the hand that had been around your neck toward your jaw. Without thinking, you pressed harder against him, your fingers about to slide under the hem of his sweater.

He clasped your wrist to stop you, assuming you were reaching for some hidden weapon. You whimpered slightly, painfully reminded that it was in fact sprained. He pulled back to look at you, both of you panting heavily and still clutching each other tightly.

“I fear that line was blurred a long time ago, and I suspect it’s the same case with you,” He murmured.

His words broke through your daze and you immediately pushed him away from you, cradling your injured hand against your chest. A maelstrom of emotions roiled inside of you, predominantly confusion and a worrisome throb between your legs.

“And what now?” You asked, glancing out of the window. “It’s clear neither of us are going anywhere any time soon.”

“Now we weather the storm,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“No, seriously.”

“I am being serious.”

You huffed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I… can’t believe I’m asking this right now but, maybe we can… put the killing each other thing on hold for a few days?”

“So you were coming for me.”

“No! I wasn’t!” You threw your hands up exasperatedly. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I have work further up north. This was just a pit stop.”

He assessed you for a moment, trying to find any clues that you were lying. You stood your ground, keeping your eyes on his face. He sniffed, leaning against the wall to get his weight off his injured leg.

“I’m fine with a temporary truce, but only if we both keep our weapons in plain sight at all times.”

“I am a weapon myself, big boy.”

“So am I. I suppose we’ll have to keep an eye on each other as well, then.”

“Fine,” you huffed, stomping to the couch and pulling it over to the kitchen. “I’ll stay on this side of the cabin, you can stay on the other side.”

“What!? This is my house!” He scoffed.

“Yeah, well, I’m being generous by letting you keep your bed. Not to mention, your life.”

He rolled his eyes, limping back over to his bed. “Whatever you say. Now, can I please fix my stitches in peace for one fucking second?”

———————

There was no sleep for the entirety of the first night.

The cabin creaked and groaned, straining against the disastrously strong wind. Your breaths fogged up in the air as you shivered under the thin blanket Duncan had given you. The cold seemed to seep into your very bones as if punishing you for your decisions. To distract yourself from the chill, you kept an eye on his prone form across the room, knowing well he wasn’t sleeping either.

When dawn broke, a thin grayish light filtered into the room. The storm raged on and all you wanted to do was doze off, but you were still on edge. You clenched your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering, irritated by a headache. Your mood didn’t get any better when Duncan rose from his bed, crossing towards the kitchen.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You inquired, not moving an inch.

He stopped in his tracks. “I’m hungry. Don’t you want to eat?”

Your stomach growled in answer and he lifted an eyebrow in slight amusement. You unwillingly threw the blanket off of you, getting up with an annoyed grunt.

“I’ll give you the food. Let’s see what you’ve got,” you said, rummaging through the cabinets.

“I could just show you…”

“No, stay on your side. Even better, why don’t you go sit back down on your bed?”

He followed orders, not really wanting to start quarreling with you so early in the morning. You finally found some oatmeal packets in one of the cupboards, and you took out a few and poured them into a pot along with some water. You left it to boil over the stove top, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face him.

“How’s your leg doing, anyway?” You asked.

“Fine. Why do you care?”

“I really don’t.”

He chuckled. “Good thing you’re a better assassin than you are a liar.”

You sighed deeply. “Well, it is your house, I should at least have some manners.”

He scoffed, still amused. “We are way past manners. Our only courtesy to each other would be a painless death.”

“Oh, really? Painless?” You arched an eyebrow. “Did you forget Lisbon? And that grenade launcher you stole?”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t technically aiming at you. You just happened to be in the way,” He argued. “And it’s not like you haven’t given me the same sort of treatment…”

You shrugged one shoulder. “It’s only fair.”

The two of you lapsed into silence as you turned your attention back to the pot. Once the oatmeal was ready, you spooned it into two bowls and walked to the invisible line that divided the cabin in two.

He got up and met you there, reaching slowly for his bowl so as not to seem threatening. Not that you were viewing him that way, anyway. At least not in the clearly exhausted state he was in.

“Careful, it’s hot,” you said. “Need me to blow on it first?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, resisting the lure of your impish grin. He figured it was perhaps the more masochistic part of him that made him so drawn to you. Always pushing him, testing him, keeping him on the edge. He would never admit it to himself — much less to you — but it made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t for a really long time.

He muttered a quick thank you before heading back to his side of the room, plopping down on the bed and immediately digging in. If he burned his mouth, he showed no indication of it, but you still huffed in amusement.

When he was done, he said nothing as he lied down, his back to you once again. A little confused and wary, you watched him as you slowly ate. Soon enough, his breath evened out into a steady rhythm, and you assumed he’d fallen asleep.

You glanced over at the dining table, where the two of you had laid out all your weapons, and considered them for a long moment.

It seemed too easy to have such a window of opportunity. Normally, you’d have jumped at any such chance, but once more, you hesitated. Not out of any sort of newfound benevolence, but something deeper than that. Something that had been gnawing at you since the previous night.

In the end, you opted not to do anything. Surely, it was bound to be a mistake to not have killed him at that moment. But that would be a problem for another day, perhaps when the storm was over.

You sat down on the floor by the foot of the couch, back resting against the frame. Sleep deprivation was starting to hit you as well, and you knew that if you were to lay down you would certainly fall asleep. Instead, your eyes focused on the suspiciously peaceful sight of Duncan sleeping.

The longer you stared, the blurrier the lines seemed to get. Literally. His broad form was smudged into a single sphere, and without much thought about it, everything suddenly went black.

Until… Shit.

How long were you asleep?

It had been long since you’d last awakened to a man in front of you, let alone holding a knife to your face. The blade shone in your half-open eyes, reflecting the setting sun outside the window. You must have been unconscious for over two hours. Stupid, so very stupid.

You blinked the haze of sleep out of your eyes and followed the glint to his fingers, his forearm, up his broad chest and shoulders, until it finally landed on his face.

“So, the game ends at last, huh?” you muttered, your gaze not wavering from his.

“Could’ve ended long ago, but it didn’t,” he said, once again looking every bit the coldhearted killer he was. You could still see, however, the presence of doubt in his dark eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I knew you weren’t actually sleeping…”

“Even so,” he pressed, straightening to his full, imposing height. “You didn’t even try. Why?”

You blinked, not really having an answer, not one that would satisfy him at least. What's more, you had a set of questions of your own, ones that would likely also have no answer.

The words slipped before you could even think about them. “Why did you kiss me?”

Silence hung between you like a heavy drape. You were cornered in more than one sense. Windows for precaution and escape had long since closed, maybe even since the moment you ran into him in that little gas station. And through hardships, you learned that if there’s no way back, the only way is forward.

The wound in his thigh didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore, so there was no way you could outrun him. You looked down to avoid his scrutiny and he used the back of his knife to force your chin back up.

He didn’t speak, but his eyes bore into yours, almost as if seeing through them into parts of you that were foreign even to yourself. The flat part of the blade trailed up to your cheek in what could be interpreted as a caress.

Your hand unconsciously intended to return the favor, running up his knee to his thigh, extra cautious around his wound. You noticed a change of pattern in his breathing, and so you looked down only to find one of the answers you sought — the print of his hardened cock cruelly imprisoned within his pants.

“Oh,” you breathed, surprised. Then again, when the reality of what you were looking at fully sank in. “Oh.”

Your hand moved on its own accord again, slowly slipping further up his thigh. Again, he tightly grabbed your wrist before your fingers reached their target, and you hissed in pain. He immediately let go, withdrawing the knife as well.

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

“A sprained wrist isn’t gonna kill me,” you said, keeping your hand on his leg to drive your point across. “Now that, on the other hand, has to be taken care of.”

“Taken care of, huh?” He rasped, his voice hoarse with want and self-directed anger because of it.

He raked a hand through your hair, gathering it in his first and pulling your head towards his crotch. He pressed your cheek against his bulge, his hips bucking ever so slightly.

“And how do you suppose that’s gonna happen?” He added.

“I have a few ideas if you’re open to them,” you panted, ignited in a way that almost fully consumed you.

His eyes searched your face for a moment, drinking you in as he searched for any indications of doubt, and then he whispered, “Are you sure?”

This time you didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

He saw the feverish gleam of hunger in your eyes as he pulled away and unbuckled his belt, pushing down his pants. The outline of his cock was even more prominent through his briefs and you couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath at the sheer size of him. He was still holding onto your hair, stepping closer and effectively cornering you against the couch.

You boldly started to reach for the hem of his briefs, but he said, “No. I want you to use your teeth.”

“Getting a little bold there, old man,” you said with a smirk, keeping your eyes on him as you dipped your head to plant a soft kiss on his thigh, right by his stitches.

He winced slightly at the contact, but you could see his cock throb against the fabric covering it. Your smirk only widened, “But I gotta admit I’m pretty impressed so far. Didn’t even have to slip a blue pill in your oatmeal.”

He gripped your jaw, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “I think you need more proof, actually. Allow me.”

With his free hand, he roughly tugged down his briefs and his cock finally sprang free — so thick and long and just fucking perfect — hitting his lower abdomen. The head of it glistened with precum, which he spread with his thumb. You shifted in your seat, biting your lip as saliva flooded your mouth.

“Open,” he ordered.

You immediately complied, wondering when the fuck you’d gotten so obedient. He gripped the base of it and fed it into your mouth slowly. You wrapped your lips around it, feeling it slide smoothly against your tongue.

A small groan escaped him, his head tipped back at the first rush of pleasure. You hummed a little in response and he felt the vibration of the sound against his shaft. His hips began to move again, shuttling his length deeper into your mouth, until you could feel the head of it reach your throat.

He let you steady yourself by placing your hands on his legs, his hand returning to the back of your head as it bobbed up and down. Then suddenly, when you’d reached the very base, he kept your head down. Your nose was against his pelvis, your deep, even breaths fanning against the fine hair that curled there.

Your nails dug into the flesh of his legs as you staved off your gag reflex as best as you could. Still, you couldn’t help but squirm a little, already pretty slick between your thighs.

He cursed under his breath as he let you come up for air, an obscene string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.

"If I knew you were such a cock drunk slut, I would have dropped my pants much earlier just to shut you up,” he said with a smug grin, looking down at you.

“More bold words from someone who’s only gonna last this round. I’m gonna have to take care of myself after you’re done,” you taunted lightly, making him pull at your hair.

You kept eye contact with him as you stuck your tongue out and traced it over a large vein on the underside of his shaft. You left a trail of wet, sloppy kisses as you made your way back to the tip, and he lightly slapped it against your tongue a couple of times before pushing your head back down on it. His balls tightened momentarily as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, and you knew he was enjoying himself much more than he let on.

"Well, if it's gonna be only one, might as well make good use of it, don't you think?" He said, pulling you off of him and making you stand up.

His lips were on yours in the next moment, just as desperate and hungry as the first kiss. He kicked his pants off the rest of the way and yanked your sweater off along with your thermal undershirt. He reached for your pants, but you slapped his hand away, extricating yourself from his lips to undo them yourself.

As soon as they were off, he turned you around and bent you over the back of the couch. There was a wet spot in your underwear that made him smirk, but he also couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed at the sight.

“This is in the way…” he grunted, tugging at your bra strap.

Before you even registered what was happening, he brought the knife back out and sawed the bra off of you. You let out a gasp that was both surprised and indignant as he proceeded to rip your panties off with his bare hands, tossing the scraps of fabric aside.

“Hey! Those are the only ones I have here!” You huffed, glaring at him over your shoulder. “Unless you have a secret stash of women’s underwear, you seriously owe me.”

He nudged your knees apart with his leg. “I don’t think you’re going to need them while you’re here. You were already ruining them yourself, anyway.”

Before you could retort, you felt him push inside of you slowly, grabbing your hips as he let out a low moan.

“Fuck…” you sighed without thinking, leaning your elbows against the back of the couch.

“Yeah? Does that feel good?” He cooed condescendingly.

“In your drea–”

His hips snapped into yours harshly, interrupting you. You felt the heat of him against your back as he leaned over you, his breath fanning across the side of your face.

“If I were you, I’d be careful about lying again. I might just stop and leave you all drenched like this, with your hands tied behind your back so you couldn’t touch yourself.”

He felt you clench around him at that and his smirk turned victorious. He kissed and sucked at your shoulder and neck, making sure to leave plenty of marks. His thrusts were hard and deep at first, hips barely pulling back as his weight pinned you down.

You let out a sound that was a strange mix between a whimper and a gasp as he bit into the tender flesh of your shoulder, hard enough to leave teeth marks behind. The jolt of pain mixed with pleasure – not to mention the slight shame that came with the feeling of your arousal dripping down your inner thighs – only fueled the fire that was steadily growing within you.

Then, a little mindlessly, you pleaded, “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He straightened immediately, readjusting himself to start pounding into you at a nearly punishing pace. You bit your bottom lip to try and keep quiet, but wanton sounds of pleasure escaped your throat despite your efforts. He was hitting a spot that made your head spin, tugging you backward onto his cock to meet his thrusts.

The lewd sound of flesh slapping together, along with your collective pants and groans, filled the room. He reached forward to grab your throat again, keeping you semi-upright as he continued to take you. In truth, he was focusing hard to stave off his release. He had plenty of stamina for his age, but the way your cunt took him so perfectly, as if molded just for him, was enough to have his balls tightening again.

But he would never hear the end of it.

Your legs began to shake a little as the coil in your belly tightened, threatening to snap. “I-I think I’m gonna cum, fuck…”

“Not yet,” he said firmly, immediately stopping his motions.

You cursed him under your breath, beyond frustrated. You pushed your hips back, intent on fucking yourself on him, but his firm grip stopped you. He landed a firm smack on your ass, making you involuntarily clench around him. He hissed, feeling the strong urge to give in and continue fucking you until you came all over his cock, but he kept his composure. He wanted to keep indulging you for as long as he could, still not fully believing he wasn’t just having a dirty dream.

“Do that again and I’ll rip your fucking head off,” you snarled as he pulled out, grabbing your arm and leading you toward the bed.

“I told you I was going to make it count.”

He tossed you onto your back on the bed, crawling on top of you and pushing your knees up to your shoulders. He positioned himself between your thighs and sank back into your cunt with no further preambles, his strong body covering yours once more.

His hands cradled your head as he began to move again, reaching impossibly deeper than before. You clawed at his biceps as he ground his pelvis against you, making your brain practically short-circuit.

“There we go… See? I knew you could take more,” he said, kissing the corner of your lips. “Are you scared I'll pull out again? You keep sucking me back in.”

Too dazed to form words, your lips chased his so he would kiss you properly. Your tongue trailed over his upper lip enticingly, and he opened his mouth so his tongue could meet yours. This kiss was deeper, less frantic, finally giving yourselves a chance to taste each other properly.

Soon you were clenching around him again, too distracted by your mounting pleasure to continue kissing him properly.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Duncan. Please, please, please, just like that,” you begged desperately, moaning as he moved to kiss your jaw.

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up, too?” He rasped against your skin. “Claim this needy cunt all for myself?”

You nodded eagerly, face contorting with ecstasy as you held onto him for dear life. Your muscles seized up as your climax washed over you, overpowering your senses. His hips stuttered as you cried out, your hot flesh molding into his like the deepest embrace.

He kissed you again as he felt his own release rippling over him, groaning into your mouth as he shuddered, unable to hold himself back any longer. He thrusted hard a few more times before remaining fully inside of you, and you felt heat flooding your cunt.

A whimper of slight overstimulation escaped you, but he soothed you with a whispered praise in your ear. You couldn’t help but smile beatifically, almost purring in content as he kept his cum inside of you.

As you both rode out your highs, your kisses turned lazy, almost tender, and even the way he held you felt different. Somehow, in some deep recess of your mind, it seemed right… and that scared you a little.

Still, you tried not to let it get to you then. Not as he leaned his sweaty forehead against yours, still panting, and said, “I think I tore my stitches.”

You chuckled. “You should probably take care of that, then.”

“In a minute…”

He disentangled himself from you, pulling out and sliding his body down between your legs. You tried to draw your thighs together, but he stopped you, planting a kiss on your mound.

He spread your lips with two fingers so he could see his cum trickling out of you, but then he pushed it back in with those same fingers, making your hips jerk slightly.

“T-this was a one time thing, you know,” you breathed, trying to sound firm.

He barely glanced up at you, seemingly unbothered. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

But only an hour or so later, you found yourself riding him on the couch. Then, he took you against the wall, over the kitchen counter, off the edge of the bed, and subsequently on the floor. He seemed intent on making sure you never questioned his endurance ever again.

Even throughout the night, you slept sporadically, pawing at each other whenever you stirred. Not many words were exchanged during this time, but that didn’t mean your mouths weren’t put to good use. As usual, you both wound up with bruises, bite marks, and scratches all over each other, but the intention behind them couldn’t be any more different.

The storm died sometime during the night, but instead of fleeing right away, you let him hold you until dawn broke. There were too many new questions floating about in your head, but you weren’t really sure you wanted the answer to any of them for the time being. Perhaps it was simply best to let what happened remain in the past and simply move on.

As quietly as you could, you got up from the bed, cleaned yourself up, and dressed. You sheathed your weapons, avoiding looking at him as you prepared to leave. When your hand was on the doorknob, his voice stopped you.

“You didn’t kill me again,” he said. “Should I take that as an indication that you like me?”

You looked over at him, frowning. “Absolutely not. I’m serious, this was the last time it’ll ever happen.”

“I’m not sure I can trust your word.”

You huffed, irritated. “Well, you’ll have to. I intend to keep it.”

You yanked the door open, about to stomp outside, but you heard the creak of the bed as he sat up.

“You know, I’m going to be in Portofino in a few months. I heard it’s beautiful there in the summer, and I figured I could use a vacation.”

“Are you trying to make yourself an easy target?”

“...Maybe.”

“And if I decide not to hunt you down?”

He raised an eyebrow. “If?”

You grimaced. “All I’m saying is don’t get your hopes up. I’m a very busy gal, I don’t have time to play cat and mouse with you.”

“And who’s who in that analogy, hm?”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Goodbye, Duncan. Truce is over, do you hear me?”

“I’ll see you in Portofino. Make sure you bring sunscreen.”

The door slammed shut behind you.

---——-

Part 2 out now!

#duncan vizla fanfiction #duncan vizla x fem!reader #duncan vizla x reader #the black kaiser x reader #the black kaiser fanfiction #polar fanfiction #duncan vizla smut #the black kaiser smut

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itsmealaiah · 6 days

Text

"not exactly"

TW: making out, drunk kissing, profanity, mentions of homophobia, assigned male at birth reader, tongue-kissing, he/him pronouns, alcohol use

Request: Hear me out. Bill and an m!reader who are at an after party with the rest of the band, and are secretly just waiting to get drunk enough to where they can make out and blame it on the alcohol. And I mean like PASSIONATE making out, like bill is on reader’s lap and they’re just shoving their tongues down eachothers throats… BUT pictured get leaked and at a band interview the interviewer asks and they’re just like “uhm- uh- we were drunk.” LIKE NO SHIT Anyway, love the work💕

Rating: 18+, mature themes ahead.

WC: 0.7k

Pairing: bill kaulitz x m! reader

"Can I get a whiskey sour?"

You asked the bartender, three drinks lying by your arm on the bar as you felt a little buzzed, but other than that you were doing fine. You smiled as he made the drink and placed it in front of you, downing the alcohol within seconds, slamming it back down onto the counter.

You were at an after-party with the band, celebrating the end of another successful concert and another successful night. The place chosen, by tom of course, was a club with plenty of female entertainment. It didn't quite intrigue you though, your interests set...somewhere else.

A tall man with black hair and a sexy voice, to be more detailed.

You had loved him since day one, he was so kind and sweet to everyone, always treating the person he was with carefully with the utmost respect.

It made you head over heels for him, but you weren't sure if he reciprocated the feelings you had. He was so nice to you, but he tended to seem more interested in women than he was with yourself.

You didn't mind, until tonight, where he sat all alone, sipping on a drink while his brother was getting grinded on by some hooker, smiling drunkenly in pleasure.

You turned your barstool around and hopped off, making your way through the sweaty, dancing crowd over to him, and plopping down on the seat next to him, his eyes darting to you as you caressed his thigh. "hey billy"

you purred in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe as he blushed profusely. 'h-hi y/n" he stuttered nervously.

your hand drifted away from his thigh, going up to his semi-hard crotch and you began to rub it through his black jeans, grinning wickedly as you saw his body jerk and his eyes role backwards.

"how are you?" you asked, his lips wide open sluttily as his eyes closed from the pleasure. "g-good" he murmured, his cock now fully hard. "mm, that's nice to hear" you whispered sensually, palming his cock faster as he moaned.

you brought your lips to his, the softness meeting yours as you made out with him, still rubbing on his poor dick :(

he moaned into your mouth, allowing your tongue to slip in and roam around his mouth, pressing your lips further into his, wrapping your hand around his waist, holding him close

"haah" he struggled to keep up with the kisses, being too close to bliss to be bothered.

His release was fast approaching, his moans more desperate and throaty as your mouth left his, leaving a gentle kiss on his shoulder as you bit gently, causing him to cum in his pants as he shook.

"y-y/n" "yes billy?" "c-can we go back to your house?"

then yall fucked nastily 😝

The next day the five of you were seated at an interview, smiling as the fans cheered for tom and bill the most.

The interviewer greeted you all with a joyful face, and pulled the cards from the table, and asked you a few, concerning the band's next concert, where the next tour was going to be, and about tom's sex life.

After those questions, his gaze drifted to you, and you met his eyes with confusion. you weren't usually asked questions being the vocalist.

"so y/n, i heard you had a little fun last night" he winked to you and bill, and you flushed, immediately denying the statement as the rest of the band looked intrigued.

you laughed, trying to play it off. "i'm not sure what you're talking about" you attempted to lighten the air.

"are you sure?" the interviewer pressed. "can we pull up the pictures?" he asked and soon, the scenes of your escapade at the club were displayed for everyone.

you glanced over at them, and then at bill, who was hiding his face, his cheeks flushed dark red.

"do you know what i'm talking about now?"

Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers @tomscumdump @tomssexdoll @billslittlewhore @charliesgoodboy

Comment to be tagged!

Requests are open! keep sending them in!

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz imagine #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x male reader #bill kaulitz x reader smut #bill kaulitz x you #billskeis #itsmealaiah

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hamsterclaw · 1 year

Text

Replay

Taehyung's your roommate - you get along fine, you do your own thing and stay out of each others' way. Your relationship works perfectly the way it is, you don't want or need anything more out of it.

Pairing: Taehyung x F! reader, Yoongi x F! reader

Word count: 11k

Genre: College AU, smut

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Smut, swearing

You’re standing in a corner of the kitchen of the house party you’re at with your roommate Taehyung.

You’re aware of the looks you’re attracting. Taehyung’s hot when he’s lounging around half-dressed in your living room, but fully dressed? When he’s made an effort?

He’s devastating.

Dark hair, dark brows often drawn together when he’s looking at someone, like they’re a puzzle he’s dying to work out, lips curled in a smirk.

He dresses carefully, even for hastily thrown together house parties, but even the loosest of shirts don’t hide his broad shoulders, the lines of his torso tapering to hips that he knows how to move.

Your roommate’s a sexy man.

You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself, especially today, when your hair’s doing what you want it to and your eyeliner’s sharp enough to cut glass.

Together, you draw attention, and you’ve taken full advantage of it in the past.

Your shared apartment with Taehyung has two bedrooms, set on opposite ends of a hallway with your living room in between, which is just as well. You’ve got no desire to hear your sexy roommate’s pillow talk, nor for him to hear you getting off with your man of choice.

Taehyung sips his drink and tilts his head at you.

‘I might go early,’ he tells you. ‘I haven’t even started Monday’s assignment.’

‘You’ve got the weekend,’ you say, easy.

‘I don’t want to lose tomorrow too,’ he says, shrugging. ‘You don’t need me, anyway.’

You’re distracted by the arrival of the basketball team. ‘Hmm?’

Taehyung dips close enough for his breath to tickle your ear. You lean back, startled. You rarely touch each other, you know some friends do but you’re not a touchy person and you didn’t think Taehyung was either.

‘Now that I have your attention,’ he says pointedly, rolling his eyes, ‘I’m gonna go. Say ‘hi’ to Yoongi for me. Don’t fuck in communal spaces.’

‘Stay for a bit,’ you plead, grabbing his shirt as he turns away.

Taehyung looks down at your hand. ‘Pick up brunch for us tomorrow and I’ll wing you.’

‘Deal,’ you say.

You both turn as you’re approached by Kim Namjoon, basketball captain and the most promiscuous man you know.

‘Hey,’ he says, leaning against the counter, dimpling at you.

‘Hi Namjoon,’ you say.

Taehyung raises a brow as Namjoon acts like he’s interested in your drink.

You’re about to offer Namjoon a sip when there’s a huff of breath, then a gravelly voice.

‘Y/N, Tae,’ Min Yoongi says, nodding to both of you in greeting.

‘Hi Yoongi,’ you say. You smile at him, and he gives you a long look that makes you feel flushed, warm.

Kim Namjoon captains the basketball team, but Yoongi’s the only person you ever watch on the rare occasion you find yourself at a game.

He’s ethereal, with his beautiful skin and dark eyes, and his hands and forearms have featured in all your nastiest fantasies.

You have needs, and tonight, you want Yoongi to see to them.

Taehyung’s already hustling Namjoon away, throwing you a smirk over his shoulder as he leaves you with Yoongi.

Yoongi watches you take a sip of your drink.

‘Want some?’ you ask, tipping your plastic cup towards him.

Yoongi says, cool, so confident you can already feel yourself melting at his feet, ‘yeah.’

He downs what's in your cup and sets it down on the counter.

‘Let me get you a better drink,’ he says, hanging his head, looking up at you, lips curled in a smirk.

You wonder what his lips might feel like on you.

‘I have wine at mine,’ you say, bold.

He keeps looking at you, smile playing on his lips.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ you say.

Yoongi tilts his head. ‘Lead the way.’

***

Yoongi’s got your skirt hiked up, panties by your ankles, and his mouth on your cunt.

He licks another stripe along your folds, slow, deliberate.

You reach up, grasp his forearm.

He snickers, following it up with another long slow lick.

‘You want my fingers?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ you plead. ‘Want you.’

You’re arched back against your headboard, trying not to scream when there’s a knock at your door.

‘Hey,’ Taehyung calls through the door. ‘You ok?’

Yoongi looks up from where he’s poised over your cunt, sees your hands covering your own mouth.

‘We’re good, bro,’ he answers, sliding his fingers into you.

Your mouth opens to moan, and Yoongi’s other hand comes up to cover your mouth.

Taehyung knocks again, more insistent this time.

‘I want to hear you, Y/N. Are you all right?’

Yoongi’s fingers start moving in and out of you as he shrugs and uncovers your mouth.

‘Yeah,’ you say, trying not to moan again. ‘I’m good, Tae, thanks for checking.’

Taehyung says, ‘Yeah. I’m in my room if you need anything.’

‘Damn,’ Yoongi murmurs as you hear Taehyung walking away. ‘You guys look out for each other like that a lot?’

You whimper as Yoongi shoves his jeans down, moves on top of you.

‘Can’t be too careful,’ you say, breathless.

Yoongi’s unrolling a condom on his pretty dick, nudging into you slowly.

He groans as he eases into you, letting out a breath when he’s all the way in.

You clench around him helplessly, the stretch of him’s so damn good you could come from this alone.

Yoongi rolls his hips, grinding, hitting you so deep you see stars behind your eyelids every time he thrusts.

‘You good?’ he asks. He’s genuinely waiting for an answer, and your heart flutters a little when you realise.

‘Yeah,’ you affirm, smiling up at him.

Yoongi stares at you for a moment, mutters something that sounds like ‘so fucking pretty’, that you would ask him to repeat if he wasn’t fucking you so well.

You cry his name as you come, tightening around his cock.

‘Good girl,’ praises Yoongi, the gravel in his voice somehow both sexy and soothing.

His thrusts slow, his rhythm changes, and he groans ‘baby, fuck, fuck!’ as he comes.

He pulls out, ties off the condom and tosses it with a careless flick into your bin.

‘All in the wrist,’ you comment.

Yoongi, now flat on his back on your bed, arm over his face, chuckles.

‘You’re an idiot.’

Then, he sits up, scanning your face like he’s worried he’s upset you.

‘I’m just teasing you,’ he tells you.

You’re already getting up to use the bathroom.

‘I know, Yoongi,’ you reply. ‘Want some water?’

‘I should get going,’ he says.

You shrug. ‘You can stay if you want.’

‘I’ve got basketball in the morning,’ he replies.

‘Sure,’ you say.

You walk him out, bid him goodbye at the door.

There’s crockery rattling in the kitchen, Taehyung’s smoky tenor caressing the notes of a jazz classic.

You stop in the doorway to listen.

Taehyung’s got a stunning voice, the first time you came back early from classes and heard him, you’d thought it was a recording.

He turns his head, spots you, doesn’t miss a beat.

You pour yourself a glass of water and take a seat at the kitchen counter.

Without asking, Taehyung lays a bowl in front of you, chopsticks together angled at a skew.

‘Thanks,’ you say, gratefully.

You eat quietly as Taehyung sings. The song segues into another, words crooned low over the tinkling of an accompanying piano.

He joins you at the counter eventually with his own bowl.

‘You good?’ he asks.

You have a sudden flashback to Yoongi buried inside you, asking the same.

You give Taehyung a half-smile.

‘Yeah good.’

‘How come Yoongi didn’t stay?’ Taehyung asks.

‘He said he had basketball in the morning,’ you reply.

You don’t want it to sting but it does.

Taehyung shrugs. ‘Maybe you’re just not that interesting out of bed,’ he says, deadpan.

‘Yeah,’ you agree, just as deadpan.

‘It’s probably more that he’s an idiot,’ Taehyung continues.

You shrug.

‘Wanna watch TV, Tae?’

‘Yeah. Go set it up and I’ll bring us ice cream.’

You’re curled up in your corner of the couch, blanket pulled over you, when Taehyung enters.

He hands you a tub and a spoon and settles in his corner.

‘Are you really ok?’ he asks, not looking at you.

‘Yeah.’

You wait for him to say something else, but he just hums.

Predictably, he’s asleep before the opening credits have even finished, but his presence is comforting all the same.

***

You’re at the diner with Taehyung the next morning when he says, ‘don’t look now, your fuckboi’s here with his teammates.’

You grimace. ‘Think they might not see us?’

Taehyung says, ‘he’s heading over here.’

You don’t have time to ask who before Min Yoongi’s standing by your booth.

‘Hey,’ he says, tilting his head at you.

You smile at him, grateful you’d at least taken the time to do your skincare this morning before coming out.

‘Hey Yoongi.’

‘Can I get your number?’ he asks.

You reel off your digits, voice steady even though your heart’s beating triple speed.

‘Ok,’ Yoongi says. The tip of his tongue pokes through his lips briefly, and your phone vibrates in your pocket.

‘Can I call you later?’ Yoongi asks.

‘Sure,’ you say, light, casual.

Yoongi nods at Taehyung, and then he’s off.

You pick up a forkful of pancakes to give your hands something to do.

‘Guess you’re not that uninteresting after all,’ Taehyung teases.

‘Yeah, and guess he’s not that much of an idiot,’ you agree.

Taehyung laughs. ‘At least now you can stop sulking.’

You’d deny you were ever sulking but Taehyung knows you too well.

***

It’s another Friday night, and you have a date with Yoongi. It’s only a movie, but he’s picking you up and you’re excited and there’s that.

You’re pouring yourself a glass of water in the kitchen when Taehyung walks in.

‘Wow,’ you say, impressed.

Your roommate’s sharply styled tonight, his hair away from his face, shirt falling perfectly against his lean frame. The chain around his neck glints in the light as he moves. He smells good, fresh.

‘Wow yourself,’ he replies. ‘Date with Yoongi?’

‘Going to the movies,’ you tell him. ‘You?’

‘I’ve got a dinner date,’ he says. ‘We’ll probably come back here after.’

‘I’ll be out late,’ you say. ‘No sex in communal spaces.’

Taehyung laughs at the mantra you’ve got into the habit of tossing at each other instead of a goodbye, and waves as he leaves.

When the doorbell rings you hurry to open it.

Yoongi’s standing in your doorway, all longish dark hair and silver earrings, smile crooked.

‘Hey pretty girl,’ he says, like he practised it, and butterflies flutter in your stomach anyway, because you’ve always been a sucker for a compliment from a gorgeous guy.

‘Hey,’ you say. You grab your keys off the hall table and step out. He doesn’t move back like you expected him to, so you end up pressed against him as you shut the door behind you.

You look at him and raise an eyebrow.

He smirks at you.

‘I’d like popcorn,’ you say.

Yoongi slips his arm around your shoulders.

‘Yeah? I’ll get you some,’ he promises.

You lean into his chest as you head for the lifts.

‘I heard the movie’s scary,’ he says, as you get into the lift. ‘Are you gonna hold my hand?’

‘I like horror movies,’ you tell him.

‘But what about me? I might get scared,’ he says.

‘Don’t worry, I can hold your hand at the scary parts.’

Yoongi says, ‘yeah?’

‘Promise,’ you say.

Yoongi grins at you. ‘We’d better practice holding hands now.’

You have to laugh at his expression. You push at his chest lightly, but when his hand comes up to grasp yours, you don’t pull away.

***

By the time you and Yoongi get back from the movie, the living room is dark but the kitchen light’s on.

‘Want a drink?’ you offer. ‘I have beer.’

You enter the kitchen and are confronted with your roommate’s bare chest, sweats slung low around his hips.

He mumbles a greeting, turns to grab a cup, revealing scratch marks all over his back.

‘Fuck, are you ok? Your back.’

Taehyung’s grin is boxy, wide, reminding you why he has the reputation he has around campus.

He passes you a couple beers, cracks one open for himself.

‘Gigi’s still here,’ he says. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Brunch?’

‘Brunch,’ you agree.

He tilts his beer at you in a toast, and saunters out.

You can hear him greeting Yoongi as he heads back to his room.

Yoongi raises a brow at you. ‘Is he high?’

‘Possibly,’ you reply. ‘Are you still scared from the movie? Do I need to hold your hand again?’

Yoongi nods so seriously you’re almost fooled.

He takes your hand and tugs you into your room, onto your bed.

‘What should we do now?’ you ask, feigning innocence.

Yoongi laughs, tugs gently at the strap of your dress with his teeth.

He pulls down, letting the strap fall off your shoulder, exposing the top of your left breast.

He brushes his lips over your rounded flesh, tongue flicking between to lick, and you shiver.

‘Cold?’ Yoongi asks, watching you intently as he blows over your exposed nipple.

You can’t stop the moan from spilling out as he flicks your nipple with his tongue.

Yoongi’s breath is warm on your skin, like his palm as he slides it over your bare thigh, under your skirt.

The tips of his long fingers brush between your legs, and you let out an involuntary hum.

‘Yeah, you’re cold,’ Yoongi says, confident, decisive.

He leans over you, pushing you down on the bed under him. ‘Come on, I’ll warm you up.’

Fuck, he does.

***

You and Taehyung are halfway through your breakfast plates at the diner before you even speak to each other.

‘If this place ever closes we’ll be fucked,’ Taehyung says, mouth full.

‘You’ll be fucking regardless,’ you say, unable to resist. ‘But yeah, we need this place to stay open.’

‘Why does fucking make me so hungry?’ wonders Taehyung. ‘I don’t feel this hungry after the gym.’

You snort. ‘When do you ever go to the gym?’

‘Jungkook’s been dragging me there.’

Taehyung flexes his arm. ‘See? This definition isn’t just my natural shape.’

You pretend to squint. ‘What? You mean being a noodle-armed weakling isn’t natural to you?’

Taehyung looks at you, mouth in a straight line. ‘You mean being a short ass isn’t natural to you?’

‘Ha ha ha ha,’ you scowl.

‘Gigi says she likes your style,’ Taehyung says, shoving another forkful of sausage into his mouth, chewing open-mouthed.

‘Yeah? I like hers too, apart from her taste in fuckbuddies,’ you retort.

‘She says you have a great ass.’

‘Oh my god, can you shut up and let me eat in peace,’ you grumble.

‘Does Yoongi say anything about me?’ Taehyung asks.

‘Yeah, he’s always asking if you’re high.’

Taehyung snorts. ‘Rich coming from a scrappy athlete with a bad reputation.’

‘He doesn’t have a bad reputation.’

‘Please. If he wasn’t the biggest fuckboy around you wouldn’t even be interested.’

‘What? I don’t just date fuckboys,’ you protest, weakly, trying to remember the last boy you actually dated.

‘You live with me,’ Taehyung reminds you, rolling his eyes.

‘You don’t have a bad reputa –’

You cut yourself off midsentence. ‘Yeah ok. And?’

‘And nothing. I like living with you. You’re easy.’

Your eyebrows lift and you toss a napkin at him.

‘Easy to live with,’ Taehyung amends.

He laughs. ‘Can you get the waitress’ attention, we’re gonna need more potato waffles.’

‘Get her yourself,’ you say.

‘Don’t be mad,’ Taehyung coaxes. ‘I’m easy too.’

You look at the way he’s sitting, leaning back, legs spread wide in his grey sweats, the neck of his t-shirt so wide you can see all of his collarbones, and your fit of pique fades.

‘I like living with you too,’ you say.

You tip your juice towards him, and he brings his own drink forward to toast.

‘To cheap breakfasts,’ he says.

‘And easy lays,’ you reply.

Taehyung’s grin flashes at you, the wide boxy grin he reserves for when he’s genuinely amused, and you can’t help but smile back.

***

The thud that comes from the living room is muffled, like whoever made it is trying to be quiet.

You’re only half awake, and falling back asleep again when you hear another sound, the thump of a knee against the edge of the sofa.

You pick up your phone, squinting at the time.

3am.

You sit up.

‘What are you doing, Tae?’ you mutter to yourself, getting up.

You stumble to the living room, eyes trying to adjust to the dark.

You can see him standing in the middle of the living room, and have a sense of unreality when you can hear a key in the front door.

Realisation pierces through you, and you turn back to the intruder in your living room.

Your mouth opens, and the intruder flees, heading straight for your balcony doors, which you’ve just noticed, are ajar.

Taehyung walks in, startled to see you.

‘Tae! There’s a man in our apartment!’ you blurt out.

Taehyung and you rush for the balcony but by the time you get there there’s no trace of the man.

‘Shit, the lock’s broken,’ Taehyung says.

‘I’m gonna call the police,’ you tell him.

‘Are you ok? What happened?’

Taehyung takes your arm.

‘Shit Tae, you smell like —’

Taehyung grimaces. ‘Yeah, sorry. The guys were going hard tonight.’

By the time you’ve made your report, Taehyung’s showered and made you both tea.

‘I don’t think anything’s missing, all our stuff’s still here,’ you say.

‘Yeah,’ Taehyung agrees. He shivers. ‘Sorry I wasn’t here.’

‘Fuck, that was scary,’ you say. Now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, you’re starting to feel sleepy.

You glance at the balcony door. ‘What are we going to do about that?’

‘We should set a trap,’ Taehyung says, authoritatively.

You glare at him. ‘Are you still high?’

‘Shit, not when you look at me like that,’ Taehyung replies.

You sigh. ‘Go to bed, Tae.’

‘No, I can fix it,’ Taehyung insists. He goes to his room, and is gone for so long you’re about to go and check on him when he returns.

‘What the fuck, Tae?’

Taehyung just raises an eyebrow at you.

He walks over to the balcony doors, snaps them closed, and ties the handles together with the red silk ties he came out with, deftly.

He tests the knots with an expertise you’re almost afraid to ask how he acquired.

You find yourself smiling, reluctantly, for the first time since you woke up.

‘Fucking hell, Kim Taehyung.’

Taehyung turns to you, completely straight-faced, apart from a tell-tale quiver of his lips.

‘I have some left over,’ he tells you, feigning innocence.

‘Fucking hell, Kim Taehyung.’

‘If you’re not feeling safe, I can sleep in your room with you, for tonight,’ he offers.

‘Get the fuck out, Tae.’

‘I don’t have to bring my ropes.’

‘Shibari.’

‘Actually, it’s Kinbaku.’

Taehyung drops the ties on the couch and walks carefully around it.

He puts a hand on your back. ‘Come on. I’ll walk you to your room, ok?’

Against your better judgement, you let him lead you to your bedroom.

Taehyung pulls the covers back, helps you get settled in and rearranges them over you.

Fully dressed, he lies on top of the covers next to you.

‘Go to sleep,’ he says, rolling on his back, closing his eyes.

His quiet, easy breathing fills the silence, and before you know it, you’re asleep.

***

The sun’s setting, so you go out on your balcony to watch. It’s chilly still but more spring than winter.

Your heels rattle against the grate as you make your way to one of the garden chairs you and Tae picked up at the flea market when you first moved in together.

Yoongi’s coming to pick you up in a half hour, a proper date you think, you’re going to pick up food together before a house party.

The front door to the apartment opens, you can hear Taehyung humming to himself.

A moment later he’s peering out the balcony doors at you.

‘You look nice,’ he tells you.

You’re surprised by his compliment. ‘Thanks Tae Tae.’

‘Hot date with a fuckboy?’ Taehyung asks. He takes the seat across the balcony from you, long legs stretching out in between. He tilts his face up to the setting sun, and for a moment you admire the beauty of his profile, cast in rosy golds and brilliant orange.

Your roommate is genuinely one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever met.

You realise he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for you to say something.

‘Sorry,’ you say, smiling. ‘I got distracted by how pretty you look.’

Taehyung snorts. ‘You look pretty too. Your legs look as long as mine in those heels.’

You scoff. ‘Yeah, I’m as tall as you.’

You stand, and Taehyung stands too.

For a moment you look up at his face.

Your hand reaches up to touch his shoulder but you veer off at the last minute.

You never touch him, really, but for some reason you want to, now.

Taehyung’s standing with his hands behind his back, face tilted down to yours.

His voice, when he says your name, is that low baritone you hear rumbling though the walls sometimes when he has someone in the bedroom with him.

More vibration than words.

Taehyung’s gaze is intent on you.

The doorbell buzzes, and you step back, spell broken.

‘It’s probably Yoongi. Have a good night, Tae Tae.’

He’s already turning away.

***

Your friend Dahyun nudges you at the house party you ended up at.

‘How are things with Yoongi?’

You shrug. ‘We’re still seeing each other. We just went to dinner before this.’

‘He took you to dinner? Good Christ, you’re practically married,’ Dahyun teases.

‘Got me dessert and everything,’ you deadpan.

She laughs.

‘How’s Hobi?’ you ask.

‘He’s good,’ Dahyun replies.

Dahyun’s been dating Hoseok on and off since first year. Personally, you’ve always liked him, he’s always treated her well and he’s always seemed kind hearted to you.

Speak of the devil.

Hoseok walks up to Dahyun and slides his arm around her waist with a possessiveness that makes you feel a pang of envy.

You can’t imagine Yoongi ever doing that to you.

It’s not that you don’t think he’d be proud to be seen with you, but he’s just not the kind of guy who’d want people to know his business.

You sip your drink as Hobi and Dahyun excuse themselves, probably to go make out in a dark corner.

It’s only when you get to the last mouthful that you realise how strong your drink is.

Shit. Why did you decide to wear these heels?

You teeter your way to the kitchen and nearly trip on a step.

There’s a warm hand on your arm, steadying you, Yoongi’s voice in your ear.

‘You ok?’

‘Yeah,’ you reply.

‘I’m gonna go grab some food with Jimin and Namjoon, Jimin’s going through some shit.’

It takes you a moment to understand.

‘Oh, ok. Sure.’

‘Can you get back home ok?’

‘Yeah,’ you say. ‘Sure.’

Yoongi looks at you a moment longer.

‘I saw Taehyung here earlier, want me to see if I can find him for you?’

You straighten up. ‘Nah, I’m fine.’

Yoongi’s still got his eyes on your face. You’re glad it’s dark enough to hide how warm your face is.

You wave a hand, careless. ‘Don’t baby me, Yoongi.’

Yoongi snorts, but he leaves, casting a final glance at you before he exits with Jimin.

You wait a beat, then decide to look around for your friends.

You wander through the living room, spotting Hoseok and Dahyun cuddled up on one of the couches.

Near the stairs you spot Taehyung, leaning against the wall with a very tall girl with gorgeous hair draped over him.

He sees you, tilts his chin, his dark brows in a straight line, his expression unreadable.

You’re heading over to him when the girl undrapes herself and slinks towards the bathroom.

You stumble a little, and Taehyung reaches out to steady you.

‘Tipsy?’ he teases.

‘A bit,’ you confess. You slump against the wall next to him, trying to ignore the way the room’s spinning lazily.

‘I’m going home,’ you tell Taehyung.

‘Sure. Who’s taking you?’ Taehyung asks.

‘Taxi,’ you reply, waving your phone.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. ‘You can barely stand. Here, wait a bit, Tina and I will go with you.’

He pushes off the wall. ‘Stay here.’

‘Nah, I’m ok,’ you reply.

Taehyung just gives you a look.

‘I’m getting Tina, wait here.’

As soon as he disappears you look down at your phone. The screen’s all blurry. You swipe at it and give up, deciding it’s not your fault the screen’s wavy and swirly.

Shit.

You press back against the wall as some tall guy walks past.

You vaguely recognise him as one of Yoongi’s teammates. Wonho?

He stops next to you.

‘Hey, you’re Y/N, right?’

His voice is deep, not as deep as Yoongi’s or even Taehyung’s, but it’s got a pleasing mellow tone to it you like.

‘Yep,’ you say. You wish you could see his face better, but your eyes don’t seem to be working that well right now.

‘I like your dress,’ he says.

‘I don’t think it comes in your size,’ you tell him.

He laughs. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘Nah, I’m good,’ you say.

‘Want to sit with me for a bit?’ he asks, leaning so close you can smell his shampoo. He smells good, but you think you’ve had enough.

Time to go home.

‘I can’t sit in this dress,’ you inform him. ‘It’s too short.’

‘Shit, come and sit with me, I won’t look.’

He sounds like he’s flirting but you’re not really interested right now.

‘My roommate’s here. I need to find him,’ you say, apologetic.

You push off the wall and go off to search for Taehyung.

You just catch sight of him being dragged upstairs.

Damn.

Sighing, you try and pull out your phone, only to not be able to find it.

Double damn.

You find yourself at the door of the house, and decide there’s nothing for it.

You’re going to have to walk home.

***

It’s still dark by the time you trudge the last few blocks home.

You’ve sobered up some from walking around in the early morning chill, at least the pavement isn’t wavy anymore.

You pull your key out of your bag with cold hands, and are trying to get your fingers to work enough to unlock the door, when it opens on its own.

‘What the fuck!’ Taehyung says. He grabs your arm and drags you inside.

You stare at him, uncomprehending.

‘Where the fuck were you?’ Taehyung asks.

You realise he’s angry.

‘Uh?’ you mumble unintelligently.

You lean down to undo your heels and nearly tip over.

Taehyung catches you, helps you straighten up.

‘You walked home like this? Are you stupid?’

You’re hurt at his tone.

‘What do you want, Tae?’ you ask tiredly.

You sit on the floor and start unbuckling your heels.

God, you’re sure they weren’t this difficult to get on.

Taehyung makes an impatient sound and pushes your hands away.

You sit as he undoes your heels and pulls them off.

‘I told you to wait for me,’ he scolds.

You glare at him, hoping the feeling returns to your feet soon so you can get up.

‘It’s dangerous to walk alone —- wait! Where the fuck are you going?’

You turn your head to look at him as you crawl away.

‘Stop scolding me, my head hurts,’ you complain.

Taehyung sighs.

Then he holds out a hand. ‘Come on, I’ll help you into bed.’

You give him your hand and nearly fall onto your face again.

Taehyung swears, then pulls you up.

He’s stronger than he looks. Maybe he wasn’t lying about going to the gym with JK.

You mull this over as he helps you to your bedroom.

Taehyung deposits you on the bed. ‘Stay here.’

‘Ugh, get out,’ you complain as he heads for your dresser.

Taehyung rummages through your top drawer and turns to you, holding out a soft tee.

As he walks towards you there’s a soft thud on the carpet.

You give him your best innocent look as your purple bullet vibrator rolls on the floor towards you, stopping at the foot of your bed.

Taehyung ignores it and hands you the tee. ‘Can you get changed on your own?’

You shrug.

He rolls his eyes. ‘Get changed. I’m gonna bring you some water.’

You decide it’s not worth the energy arguing with him.

By the time Taehyung comes back with a glass of water, you’re in bed.

He sits on the covers next to you and hands you your phone.

‘Where did you get this?’ you ask.

‘Some dude, Wonho had it,’ Taehyung says. He runs a hand over his face. ‘Fuck! I nearly got into a fight with him, I thought he’d done something to you.’

This is news to you.

You frown at Taehyung. ‘I saw you going upstairs with Tina.’

‘Fuck that, you’re drunk as fuck, you should have waited for me,’ Taehyung scolds. ‘I was only a few minutes.’

‘Two minute man?’ you ask. For some reason this strikes you as hilarious.

‘Obviously,’ Taehyung says, like he’s reaching the end of his patience, ‘Tina and I didn’t fuck because I l knew you were waiting for me.’

You’re still giggling.

Taehyung stares at you, then he scoffs. ‘Are you hungry? I can fix us ramdon.’

You fall asleep considering his offer.

***

You’re looking up train times when there’s a knock on your door.

Taehyung pokes his head in.

‘Going somewhere?’ he asks, raising a brow at your overnight bag.

‘It’s my dad,’ you tell him. ‘My mom called, he’s in the hospital.’

‘Shit,’ Taehyung says. ‘Is he ok?’

Concern’s written all over his face as he steps further into your room.

‘He’s had a heart attack,’ you say.

You’re trying to stay calm but it’s hard, your nerves have been shot since your mom called.

‘Can you drive me to the train station?’ you ask.

‘Yeah, sure,’ Taehyung says instantly. ‘Give me five and I’ll take you.’

Taehyung loads your bag into the trunk along with his and gets into the car.

‘What’s the hospital address?’ he asks.

You stare at him blankly. ‘Tae, it’s hours away.’

‘So I’ll drive you, you shouldn’t be alone,’ Taehyung tells you. He looks oddly serious.

‘Thanks,’ you say finally.

Taehyung just nods. ‘Get your belt on.’

You lean back in your chair as he pulls out of the space.

Outside, a light rain starts to fall.

***

It’s still raining when you get back home after seeing your dad at the hospital.

Your mom fusses over you and Taehyung, probably because of how incredibly kind he’d been at the hospital.

Your roommate’s showing a side to him you’ve never seen before.

You’ve seen glimpses of him being nice, of course, in the months you’ve been living with him, but you’ve never thought about him as anything more than a casual friend.

And here he is being so supportive you could cry.

Your mum’s gone up to her room when he catches you looking at him over your food.

He raises an eyebrow at you but doesn’t stop eating.

‘Thanks,’ you say, feeling like you need to say something. ‘Thanks for driving me here, and being so nice.’

Your throat closes on the last word, and you take a sip of water, trying to hide the prickle of tears behind your eyelids.

‘You’re my friend, I’m just doing the same as you’ve done for me,’ Taehyung says.

His voice is so warm, quiet, that it’s getting harder to hold the tears back.

‘Yeah?’ you ask, voice trembling as you try valiantly to pull humour in. ‘I don’t even have a car, and you don’t fit on the back of my bike.’

You cast a glance at him, but he’s not looking at you either.

‘You made me soup when I was unwell earlier in the year. You always cook extra for me.’

Taehyung’s big hand reaches out, plays with his glass. ‘You don’t mind washing some of my clothes when they accidentally get in your wash.’

You snort. ‘I knew it wasn’t an accident.’

‘They’re always so much softer when you wash them,’ Taehyung says, on a pout.

Your eyes meet.

‘It goes both ways,’ Taehyung says.

‘Like your dick?’

‘Shut up, your mom’s upstairs,’ Taehyung retorts.

‘She knows about the birds and the bees,’ you say.

You both laugh, and for the first time since you found out about your dad, the tightness in your chest eases a little.

The tears that threatened to fall are long gone, which is just as well.

You feel like you’re on the edge of a precipice, like you’re barely a step from big feelings about Taehyung that you don’t have the headspace to unpack right now.

You glance at Taehyung, and realise he’s looking back at you.

‘It’s a lot,’ you say.

‘Yeah. We’re tired.’

He seems to understand.

***

When you wake, Taehyung’s buried under the covers, the second duvet you’d grabbed from the linen closet wrapped snuggly around him.

You’d known he was a blanket hog. You’d called it.

You don’t have an excuse for the way you’re looking at him right now whilst he’s asleep, and you know you should stop.

But his face, like this, is so beautiful it makes your heart flutter. His eyelashes are so long you wonder why you never noticed them before.

He stirs, and you avert your gaze as he opens his eyes.

He’s the first to speak.

‘I like –’

You wonder how he’s going to finish his sentence.

He clears his throat.

‘I like your bed.’

‘Yeah?’ you ask. ‘You hog all the blankets.’

Taehyung turns over, onto his back, so he’s no longer facing you.

‘I’m not wearing a shirt,’ he announces.

You stare at the ceiling whilst you process this.

‘I’ve seen you shirtless before,’ you point out.

‘I’m not —’

He stops.

‘Christ, Taehyung, you’re not naked under there are you?’

Taehyung starts humming as he uncovers himself, and it takes you a moment to realise he’s parodying a striptease.

You burst out laughing.

‘Stop, stop. I’m not drunk enough for this.’

Taehyung stops with his hand over the sheet covering his waist and waggles his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. ‘What do you want for breakfast? We’ll go and pick up something for my mom.’

You end up at the bakery near your house.

The woman behind the counter, Mrs Jeong, is a friend of your parents’. She presses a box of fresh pastries on you, waving you off when you offer to pay.

‘I put extra in there for your man,’ Mrs Jeong says, nodding to Taehyung.

‘He’s not my man,’ you reply, automatically.

‘Thank you, auntie,’ Taehyung says, beaming as he takes the box.

‘You’re such a slut for a bun,’ you complain, as soon as you’re out of the shop.

Taehyung shrugs as he sips his coffee. ‘I drove you here, I’m looking after you and your mom. I’m your man.’

You sip your own coffee and adjust your sunglasses on your face. ‘Ugh. Come on, we should pick up some fruit too.’

By the time you get home, your mother’s up and preparing breakfast.

It’s weird seeing your roommate like this, fully dressed and sitting up straight on a Saturday morning instead of shovelling pancakes into his mouth, slumped and hungover.

You wonder if it’s weird for Taehyung to see you like this too.

After breakfast, your mother heads to the hospital whilst you see Taehyung off.

You pack him some pastries for the drive back and watch as he loads his overnight bag into the car.

‘Hey, drive safe, ok?’ you say.

He snorts. ‘I’ll definitely be safe, unlike you stumbling home drunk the other day.’

‘I didn’t want to cockblock you,’ you say, shrugging.

Taehyung opens his car door, turns to face you.

‘I can get laid anytime. It’s not everyday I find a roommate who has the same taste in food and shit TV as me.’

You furrow your brow. ‘You’d better wait until I get back to watch the next episode.’

Taehyung pretends to consider it. ‘Yeah we’ll see.’

He smiles at you. ‘Are you gonna be ok?’

‘Yeah,’ you promise. You almost feel like hugging him, but you never touch.

It would be weird, right?

Taehyung’s turning back to his car, anyway. He gets in, rolls down the window.

‘See you in a couple weeks?’

‘Yeah. Don’t fuck in —’

‘Communal spaces,’ he finishes. He laughs softly, and then he’s rolling up the window.

You watch him drive down your road, until he turns the corner and you can’t see him anymore.

***

You nudge the front door of your apartment open with your foot. Your mother had insisted on packing food for you and Taehyung when you left the house. You’d had to convince her you couldn’t possibly carry any more on the train with you.

Your father’s back home and on the mend.

You’ve got finals coming up soon, and although you’ve been keeping up to date with assignments whilst you’ve been at home, it’s good to be back.

The apartment’s dark, you’re not sure if Taehyung’s home.

You put your food down in the kitchen and head to your room.

It’s exactly the way you left it.

You pull off your coat and head to the bathroom to take a shower.

You’re back in the kitchen, heating up food, when you hear a key in the door.

You step out to greet Taehyung, and realise he’s not alone.

A pretty brunette in a green dress is standing next to him in your entryway, holding on to his arm as she slips her shoes off.

‘Hey,’ Taehyung says, warmth in his voice.

You smile, not sure why your heart feels like it’s in your mouth.

‘Hey.’

You share your smile with the girl, and Taehyung says, belatedly, ‘This is Kira.’

‘Hey, nice to meet you,’ Kira says. She grins at you, and dimples pop in her cheeks.

Damn, she’s cute.

‘My mom made food for us. You guys should help yourselves,’ you say.

You head back to the kitchen.

Taehyung wanders in behind you with Kira.

‘You want to eat something, babe?’ he asks, and there’s a pang in your chest at the endearment, a feeling you can’t name.

You need to change the subject.

‘You kept the place clean whilst I was away, I’m impressed,’ you say lightly.

Taehyung looks pleased. ‘I’m glad you noticed. I even did some of your laundry.’

You feign shock.

Kira giggles.

Taehyung hands you a plate, and you sit to eat.

‘How’s your mom and dad?’ he asks, quietly.

‘They’re good. My dad’s back home. My mom’s feeling better about it all,’ you tell him.

‘What happened?’ Kira asks.

You explain as Taehyung heats up food for him and Kira.

Your phone lights up on the kitchen counter.

Taehyung glances at it.

‘Yoongi was asking after you,’ he says, ‘last weekend. I told him about your dad.’

‘Yeah. He texted me a couple times.’

‘You gonna meet up with him?’ Taehyung asks. He’s looking at you now, an unreadable expression on his face.

You shrug. ‘Maybe?’

Taehyung changes the subject.

‘I was thinking we should have a party here next month,’ he says, sitting down opposite you at the kitchen table, next to Kira.

‘Yeah. Right after finals?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Sounds great, Tae.’

Your phone lights up again. Taehyung raises an eyebrow at it.

‘Looks like Wonho’s really trying to get in touch with you.’

You roll your eyes. ‘I don’t even know how he got my number, honestly.’

‘Probably from that time he found your phone at that party,’ Taehyung says.

‘He’s cute,’ Kira says.

‘I don’t like guys with muscles,’ you say, dismissive.

You flick your eyes at Taehyung. ‘Just noodle arms.’

Taehyung laughs so hard he snorts broth through his nose.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he says.

‘I’ve missed you too, Tae.’

It’s the truest thing you’ve said today.

There’s a fizz of something in the air between you as you lock eyes with Taehyung.

Kira’s looking at you and Taehyung thoughtfully.

You get up. ‘I’m gonna go to bed. Nice to meet you, Kira.’

***

You’ve been busy the last few weeks, with finals and year end assignments.

Taehyung and you have organised a schedule between you, there’s always food and you know when each other’s exams are so you can make sure you wake up on time.

You haven’t seen Yoongi since you got back, which is just as well.

Once the semester ends you’re moving to another city, joining a publishing firm.

It’s the end of an era.

Honestly, you’re more than a little apprehensive about moving out of your place with Taehyung, moving on with your life, but it’s starting to feel like it’s the right time.

If you never go to another club night in some dive with sticky floors, you think you can live with that.

You’re sitting in someone’s backyard at some house party, ass on the grass, with Taehyung sprawled out next to you.

Taehyung reaches out, flicks your bare thigh.

You ‘ouch’ exaggeratedly, move your leg away.

‘What are we gonna do when we’re not doing this every Friday?’ Taehyung asks.

You sip your drink, look up at the stars.

You realise he’s waiting for an answer.

‘Not sure, Tae. We can do this on Friday nights if you want.’

‘Yeah I’ll come to your new place and we can drink together.’

He pokes your leg again, and you nudge his hand with your thigh.

You glance over and catch him looking at the hem of your short skirt.

‘You horny, Tae Tae?’

You expect him to make a joke of it, but he asks, voice low, ‘have you ever wondered what it might be like if we slept together?’

Your eyes meet, and he still seems completely sober.

‘I know you have fantasies about me,’ you say carefully, giving him another chance to make a joke of it, to stop before he crosses that invisible line between you that you both have always toed.

Your roommate traces his finger along the line of your thigh, and your cunt tightens.

You let out a breath.

‘I do think about you,’ he says. He turns on his side on the grass, facing you, turned away from everyone else.

His finger strokes another line down your thigh, then travels up, over the front of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your skirt.

You look straight at him as you let your thighs fall apart slightly.

Taehyung moves his hand, off the taut hem of your skirt. He bites his lip, and then reaches under, sliding between your legs with a confidence that makes your cunt tighten again.

The tips of his long fingers brush the fabric of your panties.

‘Are these those pretty purple panties?’ he asks.

‘You like those?’ you ask.

He moves a little closer, pulls your thigh closer to him to make room for his hand.

It’s dark in this backyard, you doubt anyone can see anything.

As long as you can keep quiet.

Taehyung dips his head, brushing his lips against your bare thigh. You have the barest instant of warning, a flash of teeth, before he nips at your flesh.

‘Fuck, Tae,’ you breathe.

His hand between your legs has moved up so that his thumb can slide along your slit, his fingers braced on your upper thigh.

His face is so close to your cunt you can feel his breath on your thigh.

‘Not here,’ you say, grabbing his arm.

Fuck are you really doing this?

With Taehyung?

Taehyung gets up, adjusts himself and takes your hand.

When he looks at you, his eyes are dark with intent.

Unlike you, he seems pretty sure he wants this.

When your roommate commits to anything, he goes all in.

You guess you’re in too.

You follow Taehyung around the side of the house.

He stops by the wall, backs up against it, pulls you to him.

‘Should I kiss you?’ he asks.

It’s enough to snap you out of the lust and booze fuelled haze you’re in.

The words come out before you can stop them.

‘Don’t you want to, Tae?’

Even you can hear the hurt in your voice.

It’s wrong, it’s too much.

Sadly, it’s not nearly enough.

Taehyung holds out his hand, says your name, but you’re too drunk and too raw to even look at him.

You stumble away, and Taehyung doesn’t go after you.

***

You wake in stages.

Blink.

There’s bright sun shining through the crack in the curtains, so it’s daytime.

Blink.

There’s the silky dress you wore last night draped over the chair, your tiny underthings laid carefully across it, so you got undressed yourself.

Blink.

Your head is full, your mouth dry, your stomach already growling its discontent, so you’re hungover.

You groan and sit up.

Blink.

Taehyung and the events of last night come back to you.

You nearly fucked your roommate, would have fucked him, if he hadn’t made it so obvious that you were just another body to him.

The only girl on campus he hasn’t fucked.

Blink.

Wincing, you swing your legs onto the floor and get up.

Your head throbs.

You pick up the glass of water by your bed and down it.

By the time you’ve showered and done your skincare, your stomach is making it impossible to concentrate on anything.

You step out your room and are startled by Taehyung standing just outside your door.

‘Shit,’ you say.

Taehyung says, ‘let’s go to brunch.’

***

It’s weird, to think that this is one of the last times you and Taehyung will do this.

You use your hunger as an excuse to avoid talking, and Taehyung doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush to say anything either.

‘It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you,’ he says, muffled over a mouthful of pancakes.

You grimace and spear a bite of sausage.

‘It’s fine, Tae, I was drunk and emotional.’

‘Don’t hide behind it, you weren’t that drunk.’

His voice rings out, clear as a bell.

You look at each other. There’s frustration in his face, in the way his brows are drawn together, in the way his lips are in a straight line.

‘What are you saying, Tae?’

Your voice is soft, a vulnerability in it that you tend not to show.

You think Taehyung notices, because when he speaks again, his voice is soft too.

He sounds like when he speaks to you sometimes, when you wake up in the middle of the night still on the couch, the TV still on and he tells you to go to bed.

He sounds like when you’re out on the balcony some evenings after a tough day when only nicotine and talking shit will ease the tightness in your chest.

You’re so fucking fond of Taehyung, you realise now.

He lives his own life, separate to you, but he’s always been there when you’ve needed him.

You don’t spend that much time talking, but you know him intimately all the same.

You know he likes when you look after him a little, putting out food for him.

You know he hates leaving washing up for the next day and that he’s got a secret love for sports films and anything where the underdog triumphs.

You know that although you never see him go to the gym, he loves a team game.

You know he plays jazz when he’s sad and that his eyes look like wet velvet when he cries.

Taehyung’s opening his mouth to speak, but he stops when you get up and slide into the booth beside him.

You have no words left, so you kiss him instead.

It’s chaste, the way your lips touch, but then his arm slides around you and he tilts his head, and a thin line of heat unfurls inside you.

You never touch, and now he’s lighting little fires under your skin wherever he touches you.

Taehyung says your name on a breath, like smoke.

When you finally pull away, he dips his head, steals another kiss, before he’ll let you go.

‘I’ve been thinking about this for a while,’ he says, face still inches from yours.

‘Me too,’ you admit.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Fuck, I’m embarassingly hard,’ he tells you, shifting his hips.

‘Let’s go do something about it,’ you say.

***

When you and Taehyung reach your apartment, there’s half a basketball team waiting outside.

Yoongi steps forward. ‘We thought you might need a hand carrying things for the party later.’

You’re surprised, but you rally quickly.

‘Yeah, we need muscles,’ you say, glancing at Taehyung, wondering if he’s organised this.

Taehyung looks as surprised as you do. ‘Yeah ok, let’s go pick some stuff up.’

He adjusts himself again, and for a moment the outline of his erection in his sweats is so clear you have the sudden strong urge to drop to your knees and worship his cock.

Yoongi’s got his head tilted, he’s looking at you, and you wonder how much of your filthy imaginings show on your face.

Then he gives you a half smile.

‘Y/N, you can ride with me.’

***

You end up alone in the car with Yoongi.

You watch idly as he drives, forearms flexing, big hands hooked over the wheel.

‘You look good, Yoongi,’ you say.

He casts a glance at you. ‘Yeah, you too, pretty girl.’

He raises an eyebrow at you. ‘So you and Taehyung?’

‘Would’ve fucked if you hadn’t turned up today,’ you confess.

Yoongi looks amused. ‘Shit, yeah?’

‘I don’t know how I feel about it,’ you tell him, looking out the window at the buildings flashing past.

Yoongi shrugs. ‘You’re hot, he’s hot, you’re moving out soon. Sometimes sex is just sex.’

‘Like us?’

Yoongi says, teasing, ‘when did you get so needy? You barely even say hello when I see you these days.’

He signals, turns into the store car park. ‘Anyway, you know that’s not true, I take you out all the time.’

You climb out the car, wait for him to walk to the store together.

‘Wanna hold hands?’ you ask.

Yoongi laughs. ‘I want to turn around and take you back to bed right now.’

You lean into his side. ‘Might take you up on that.’

‘Yeah,’ Yoongi agrees. ‘Wear those silk panties for me tonight.’

‘And Tae?’

Yoongi looks down at you, that familiar smirk on his face. ‘He can join in if he wants.’

You consider this.

‘Shit, you dirty girl,’ Yoongi says, but he doesn’t sound mad about it.

He squeezes you into his side as you walk into the store.

***

You catch Taehyung in the living room before the party.

He looks stunning tonight, his hair styled, his skin glowing.

His beautiful face is as perfect as it ever was.

‘Like my shirt?’ he asks.

He stops in front of you, closer than he usually stands.

You wonder how many other norms are going out the window tonight.

You’re wearing the silk panties Yoongi requested, a silky dress that barely covers you.

‘Like my dress?’ you ask.

‘You’re perfect,’ Taehyung tells you. He smiles at you affectionately.

You say, ‘wait, I have something for you.’

You go to your room, pull out the record you picked out for him.

It’s a jazz piano piece that had played a lot in the coffee shop you spent a lot of time in when you were back home for your dad.

It’s sad, the notes drawn out and stark. It’d reminded you of the many nights you’d spent, on your balcony with Taehyung.

Taehyung puts the record on.

He doesn’t ask you to dance, not verbally anyway, but he holds out his arms and you step into them and he holds you close as he sways.

You lean your head against his chest, and his breathing stays slow, even.

He feels warm, and safe.

He feels an awful lot like someone you’re meant to be with.

You wonder why it’s taken you the whole year to realise.

Next week, you’re moving to another city.

It’s too late for regrets now.

Taehyung’s body moves with yours. He presses his cheek to your head.

The notes surround you, plaintive and wistful.

You wish there was more to say.

Taehyung holds you until the record plays out.

***

Your and Taehyung’s party is teeming with people, half of whom you don't even know.

Jimin and Jungkook have done something to your sound system, the music’s playing loud enough to raise complaints from half the city.

You don’t give a fuck, not today, when the bass fills the void of longing inside you.

Yoongi’s leaning against the railing of your balcony, facing out.

You’re facing the opposite direction, pressed close to his side.

Taehyung’s against the wall across your living room, looking straight at you as Yoongi drapes an arm around you and pulls you between him and the railing.

He kisses you. He tastes sweet, you wonder what he’s been drinking.

He murmurs, close to your ear. ‘Did you get dressed for me, pretty girl?’

‘Yeah,’ you tell him. ‘You gonna undress me?’

‘I’ll undress you,’ Yoongi promises. There’s a glint of something in his eyes. ‘Is your roommate going to watch?’

You say, ‘ask him yourself, he’s coming over here.’

Taehyung approaches you and Yoongi. He takes his time, a deliberate languidness to his movements that reminds you of a panther stalking its prey.

Yoongi doesn’t move as Taehyung slots himself in next to you.

‘Hyung,’ Taehyung says. ‘Can you give me and Y/N a minute.’

Yoongi eyes him. ‘Don’t 'hyung' me now. You can say what you need to say with me here.’

‘Come with me,’ Taehyung says to you. ‘If this is the last chance we have then I want to take it.’

Both men look at you.

Your heart’s beating, fit to burst, in your chest.

You take both men by the arm and lead them to your room.

***

The lights are low, the thumping bass vibrating through the wall.

In contrast to the rest of the apartment, your room is cool, the hallway leading to it long enough to put distance between you three and the crowd in your living room.

Yoongi, with the easy confidence of a man who knows exactly how this goes, takes your mouth. His kisses are designed to tease both you and the man watching, open-mouthed, tongue openly licking into your mouth.

‘Want to watch how I please her?’ Yoongi asks, directed at Taehyung. He slides his hands over your bare back.

‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’

Yoongi’s speaking to Taehyung, but he’s looking at you.

He turns you so your back is to Taehyung, who’s sitting in your chair.

He lifts the hem of your slip dress, the silken fabric rustling against the silk of your panties.

He cups your ass as he kisses you, long fingers tracing the cleft of your ass.

He’s lifting your dress higher and higher.

‘Arms up,’ he tells you, and you comply.

Yoongi tosses your dress onto the floor.

He admires your bare tits with a flattering intensity.

He wraps an arm around you, cupping your breast as he turns you around to face Taehyung.

You cast a glance at Taehyung, and you’re transfixed.

His eyes travel from Yoongi’s arm across your chest to your face.

He says, quietly and with feeling, ‘you’re so fucking pretty.’

His voice is hushed, reverent.

Yoongi’s thumb flicks over your nipple, and Taehyung bites his lip as Yoongi lets go of your breast to cup the other.

His other hand kneads your ass until you’ve moving your hips against him.

You’re wet, and as Yoongi slides his hand between your legs to cup you, he grunts his approval.

‘You like that, pretty girl? You like how we’re both so hard for you? My dick hurts, and I’m sure Taehyung’s does too. Look at how he’s touching himself.’

Your gaze flies to Taehyung. He’s stroking over the clear outline of his erection, grinding against his own palm as he watches Yoongi touching you.

Yoongi hooks his fingers into your panties.

‘Wore these for me, didn’t you?’

He tugs them down, and you step out of them.

‘Go give them to Taehyung, baby.’

You turn your head to look back at Yoongi.

He’s looking back at you, cool, expressionless.

‘I’ll give these to Tae, then can I come back and suck your dick?’

Yoongi grins at you. ‘All yours, baby.’

You walk over to Taehyung, his eyes following your every move.

He takes your panties, then asks, ‘can you kiss me?’

Your thoughts flash back to when he asked if he should kiss you.

Taehyung doesn’t wait for a response this time.

He tugs your face down to his, and he kisses you, warm and sweet.

It’s the first time you’ve kissed, and as first times go, it’s perfect.

Taehyung’s lips mould to yours like he was made to fit against you.

You forget that you’re completely nude, that Yoongi’s watching, and you kiss him back.

You drown in him.

By the time you pull away, you’re both breathless.

‘Why did we wait so long?’ he murmurs, face pressed to yours still.

‘You’re an idiot,’ you say, but you feel so much affection for him you’re giddy with it. ‘I’m an idiot.’

Taehyung tweaks your breast, and you cover yourself with a squeal.

He sneaks a hand around your hip to pinch your ass.

‘Show me how you suck dick,’ he says. ‘I’ve been fantasizing about it.’

You can’t stop your smile as you turn back to Yoongi.

Yoongi gives you a cocky half-smile. ‘Come get comfortable, baby.’

He’s manspreading on your bed, hand curled around himself. He strokes his cock as you position yourself, even though he already looks plenty hard.

He pats your hip. ‘Ass up, let’s give Taehyung a show.’

You kiss the head of his cock and take him in. He grunts his approval as you suckle him. He’s thick, hard like velvet over stone, and as he glides into your throat he moans.

You tug at his balls, and his hips move.

‘Fuck, you’re good at this,’ he groans, voice a rasp, muscles in his thighs taut under your hands.

You press your tongue firmly to the underside of him, and Yoongi groans again.

‘Come ride me,’ he says.

He curls his hands around your hips, helping you balance on top of him.

You slide his cock along your cunt. You’re so slick with arousal now the slide is easy.

Yoongi says, ‘want to give us a hand?’

Taehyung climbs onto the bed behind you. He must have taken his clothes off along the way, because all you can feel is his bare chest pressed against your back as he curls an arm under your breasts, his bare cock nudging the curve of your ass.

Yoongi’s flat on his back but somehow he still has complete control.

‘You’re a dirty girl aren’t you? So greedy.’

He grunts as you grind against him. ‘Go on, pretty girl, put it on me.’

You unroll a condom onto his length and line him up.

Taehyung’s nibbling along your shoulder, touching your breasts as Yoongi’s cock fills you.

You moan when he’s in all the way.

‘Fuck, you feel so fucking good,’ Yoongi tells you. There’s a sheen of sweat on his brow now as he helps you grind on him.

His cock’s angled so beautifully you gasp with each thrust of his hips.

Taehyung’s stroking his thumbs over your nipples, moaning as he rocks his cock against your ass.

You don’t realise you have your eyes closed until Yoongi says, voice strained, ‘open your eyes, baby, look how well you take me.’

You’re panting now, every movement sending waves of pleasure through your core.

‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck,’ Yoongi chants.

He bucks his pelvis under you, squeezing your hips hard as he comes.

His deep groan pulls you over the edge with him.

You’re coming, fuck, and it’s so good you’re blinded.

Behind you, Taehyung’s moaning, grinding into your ass.

Someone says your name, but you have no idea who.

***

Yoongi’s murmuring your name into your ear.

The lights in your room are low now, the music fading out.

You don’t know how much time’s passed since you fell asleep between Yoongi and Taehyung.

Yoongi says, ‘I gotta go, baby. Taehyung’s getting people to leave.’

You try to sit up, but he stops you. ‘Just rest a bit. Everything’s handled.’

He passes you a glass of water.

‘Heard you were moving out next week,’ he says, watching you drink.

‘Yeah,’ you say.

There’s a sort of wistfulness in his tone. ‘I guess I’ll text you if I’m ever in your area.’

You put your hand over his. ‘You know how to get hold of me,’ you remind him.

His half-smile makes your heart burn bright in your chest.

‘Answer your phone,’ he says.

‘You answer yours,’ you retort.

You both laugh. He pulls you into a half hug, and too soon, he’s pulling away.

‘See you around, pretty girl.’

He gives you one last smile, then he’s leaving your room, closing the door quietly behind him.

You lie back down, but the urge to speak to Taehyung’s too strong.

You don’t want to wait.

You slip on clothes and step through your now empty apartment.

Taehyung’s standing on the balcony, looking out.

‘Hey,’ you say.

His smile is brilliant, beautiful, perfect.

He’s everything you want, and you’re sad it’s taken you this long to realise.

‘Hey,’ Taehyung says.

He reaches for you, and you slide into his arms, like a key sliding into a lock.

It feels right.

Taehyung buries his face in your hair.

‘Feels like a lot,’ he says.

‘Too fucking much,’ you agree instantly.

He’s looking at you so intently you feel shy.

‘Let’s not talk about it,’ you say, tipping your face to his, putting your finger across his lips like you’re shushing him even though he hasn’t said anything.

Taehyung dips his head to kiss you. It’s even better than the first time.

***

This time, Taehyung and you take your time.

You’re in his bed, lying on your back, giggling as he blows raspberries on your belly.

He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties, tugs playfully.

‘I once used these to jerk off,’ he informs you.

You stare at him incredulously. ‘These? They’re not even a sexy pair.’

‘It was when you wore these with those low waisted jeans,’ he reminds you. ‘I spent the whole day staring at them.’

You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing against the stubble on his jaw.

‘You didn’t,’ you whisper.

Taehyung nudges closer, lips against yours.

‘Did. Came so hard thinking about you wearing these with my cum in them,’ he tells you. His voice is so low it makes you shiver.

He’s kissing down your neck now, making small rumbling noises as you press yourself to him. You can’t get close enough, his skin’s so warm.

He pushes closer, hand under your thigh, making you open up for him so he can fit in between.

His cock, deliciously hard, nudges between your legs.

‘Take these off?’ you ask, and he nods.

You slip your panties down past the curve of your ass, but when you try to move your leg off his hip, his grip tightens.

‘Stay,’ he says.

He nudges forward, and the head of his cock pushes into you.

He feels so good you’re biting your lip, trying to move, to take more of him in.

He clutches your thigh, tight, and you both stop as your panties rip at the seam.

‘Shit, Tae,’ you gasp, giggling.

He’s already pushing into you, stretching you on his cock.

‘Ah, fuck,’ he groan, voice thick, slurred with want.

He grasps your hip, and pulls you under him. Sinks in all the way.

He fits between your thighs so beautifully you’re halfway to coming even before he starts rocking into you.

‘Taehyung,’ you gasp.

He’s still holding your hip, holding you down so he can slide his cock into you.

He’s so hard and heavy you’re lost, opening yourself up to him.

There’s nothing but the sounds of your breathing, jagged and irregular, the slap of skin against skin, the weight of him on you, the smell of his shampoo.

His hair’s so soft, why have you never touched it before?

Taehyung’s dragging his mouth over your skin, holding you tight, and he groans, deep in his chest, as you come.

He circles his hips, grinding against you, grunting.

He says your name, a shout, and then he’s pulling you closer, arms around you, face in your neck.

It’s a while before either of you can let go.

***

When you stir, wriggle a bit, Taehyung’s big hand tightens on your ass.

‘I’m kind of hungry,’ you confess.

‘What time is it?’

You roll over, grab your phone and tell him.

‘The diner’s probably open, we can get breakfast,’ Taehyung suggests.

You look at each other.

‘For old times sake,’ he continues.

You’re distracted by the flex of his arm as he puts it behind his head, props himself up.

You think you have enough memories of you and Taehyung getting hungover brunch in the diner on your road.

You think it’s time to make some new ones.

‘Or we could just fuck instead.’

Taehyung laughs, slaps your hip.

‘Come ride me then.’

You don’t make him ask twice.

***

Your things are packed up, every physical trace of you removed from this apartment that you’ve shared with Taehyung for the last year.

Taehyung’s loaded the last of his things into his car, and in an hour your parents will be here to help you move too.

You’re on the balcony, watching Taehyung as he shuts the trunk, locks his car. He looks up at you, then he disappears into your building.

Then he’s back in the apartment, standing in the doorway, head tilted as he looks at you and the empty space between.

You’ve said a lot of things to each other in the last week, and now all that’s left is an odd kind of longing for what might have been.

You don’t want to romanticise it just because it’s ending, but fuck, you’re going to miss him.

Taehyung’s holding you now, you have no idea when he closed the gap between you.

There’s sadness in his eyes, but a smile on his lips and it’s enough for you.

‘Don’t fuck,’ he says.

‘In communal spaces,’ you finish.

Neither of you laugh, but you can feel his lips curving against yours.

It’s still the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had.

***

A year later

You’re frowning at an email you’ve just received when your colleague stops by your desk.

You look up.

Jihyo says, ‘these are the new members of the design team who have just been hired.’

You smile automatically as you greet the three people standing in front of your desk.

You make eye contact with each person in turn, and when your gaze falls on the last person, a fluttery heat starts in the middle of your chest.

Dark brows drawn together like he’s trying to work you out, a husky low voice that you know as well as your own.

Kim Taehyung steps forward, hand out.

‘I’m Kim Taehyung,’ he says.

Your smile is brilliant, a match for his.

‘Y/N L/N,’ you reply, clasping his hand.

‘Are you free for dinner tonight?’ he asks. ‘I’ve just moved to this city and would love for someone to show me around.’

‘I think I can help you with that,’ you reply.

He still hasn’t let go of your hand.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ you say.

You’re aware the others are staring, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Taehyung smiles at you, lazy, devastating. Perfect.

‘Ok,’ he says. ‘Let’s try this again.’

#kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #yoongi smut #bts fic #bts smut

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 15 hours

Text

Dial Tones - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This Contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You'd been waiting for sex in your relationship with Ethan, and after doing some other things with him before you left for college, you found yourself curious of what your boyfriend would do when he had the opportunity to have all of you.

Contains: m and f masturbation, phone sex.

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing phone sex, and because I'm a sensitive baby, don't tell me if it sucks lmao. This was requested forever ago, and I'm thinking it could lead into the virgin!reader x virgin!Ethan fic I need to write👀 Let me know if y'all are cool with that haha.

P.S. - It's shorter than my normal stuff. I'm trying to figure out how to write phone sex💀

Before your left for college, your relationship with Ethan started to get a little…steamier. You weren’t fully ready for sex, and the furthest you’d ever gone was some oral stuff for him, and one night your shirt and bra came off while he rubbed you over your jeans, but Ethan was more than okay to wait for sex with you, because he loved you, and wanted you to be ready before you took things to the next level.

Once you were in different areas of the country, you were starting to regret not having sex with Ethan. You regularly found yourself thinking about his hands on you, and how loving he was, and how he never tried to push past the boundaries you’d set in place. He’d been so patient with you, even though he wanted it so badly.

You’d just got home from your last class of the day when you crawled onto your bed and pulled out your laptop to work on your assignments, when you heard your phone vibrating on the bed beside you. You quickly answered it once you saw Ethan’s name.

“Hey, babe,” you said, your sweet voice making him smile on the other end of the call. “How was your day?”

“It was good,” he sighed, “I’ve been missing you so much today.”

“Only two more weeks, and you’ll have me all to yourself,” you said, as he lightly chuckled.

“I can’t wait.” You could hear the happiness in his voice as he spoke. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Well, my roommate is already at some huge frat thing with the sorority she’s rushing. I was planning on doing homework until I eventually pass out,” you said, laughing a little at how uninteresting your Friday night plans sounded. “What are you doing tonight?”

“My roommate is out tonight, too. We’re both loners,” he joked, as you scoffed.

“Too bad I’m not there with you,” you said, your bottom lip going in between your teeth as you thought about it. “Just curious, what would you do if I was there with you?”

“I’d give you so many hugs and kisses,” he said, as you smiled at how sweet he was.

“Is that all you’d want to do?” you asked, the tone of your voice a little different than Ethan was used to.

“Oh, um, cuddling, of course,” he said, as you started to giggle.

“What else would you do, baby?” you purred, “Because I can think of so many things.”

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice a little heavier as he got more comfortable on his bed.

“I can’t stop thinking about your hands on me,” you said, as you closed your laptop and laid back. “And how good it feels when you kiss my neck.”

“I uh…,” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. You’d never tried to do something like this before, and he didn’t want to say anything to make you uncomfortable.

“Or how good it feels when you’re sucking on my nipples,” you said, as your hand started to teasingly run up your body.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighed, as he started to get hard in his jeans. “When you’re ready one day, I’d love to have my mouth all over your body.”

“Tell me about it. What would you do?” you questioned, as you sat up to pull your shirt over your head.

“I’d start with kissing your neck, because I know how much you like it. Then I’d kiss you down your chest, and I’d pay so much attention to your sensitive nipples,” he said, his voice a little raspy. “Then I’d kiss down your tummy, and fuck, I know you’d be breathing so heavy.”

“Keep going, baby,” you said, putting your phone on speaker as you sat it down beside you to unhook your bra.

“Then I’d get you out of your jeans, and after I had those off your legs, I’d start kissing you from your ankles to your thighs.”

You took your jeans off, too, getting wetter by the second at all the things Ethan was saying to you.

“Then I’d start rubbing you over your panties,” he said, as you started to run your fingertips over the soaked material in between your legs. A small gasp slipped past your lips at the feeling, as the realization hit Ethan that you were touching yourself. “I bet they’d be so wet.”

“They are,” you teasingly said, as Ethan groaned. “I think you should take your pants off.”

“Okay,” he said, and you soon heard the rustling of him quickly getting out of them.

“How hard are you right now?” you asked, as he let out a deep breath.

“So hard.”

“What else would you want to do?” you questioned, “Because I need to hear a little more.”

“I’d get you out of those panties,” he said, as you slid them down your legs. You heard rustling again on his end, you assumed he was taking off his boxers. “And then I’d explore your pussy with my tongue.”

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped, as your fingers started to roll over your needy bundle of nerves.

“What are you doing, baby?” he asked, his breath a little heavy as he waited for your answer.

“Touching myself, wishing it was your fingers instead of mine,” you admitted, a soft moan slipping past your lips when you started to move your fingers faster.

“I was it was mine too, baby. I wish it was your hand on my cock right now,” he groaned, “How good does it feel?”

You didn’t answer him, the moaning that was getting a little louder letting him know what he needed to know. His hand sped up, a bead of precum dripping out of his tip as he listened to all the sounds you were making.

“Finger yourself, baby,” he groaned, as you stopped your hand movements and slid one finger into your tight, dripping pussy.

You pumped that single finger in and out before you tried to add another one. You were so wet, but it was still difficult for you to get it in.

“I don’t know how you’re going to fit inside of me,” you said, whimpering as you stretched yourself out. “I can barely take two fingers.”

“Oh fuck, you’re that tight, baby?” he asked, as he started to jerk his cock even faster. “I’d take such good care of you. I’d make you feel so good.”

Your mouth dropped open as you panted, your eyes closing as you tried to imagine Ethan doing all the things you were doing to yourself. You remembered how good his hands and mouth felt on other parts of your body, and when you thought about his mouth and fingers on your pussy, you felt your orgasm starting to build. You knew Ethan was getting close, the soft grunts slipping past his lips sounding the same as when you were on your knees for him before you left for college.

“I love the way you sound,” he grunted, “You’re doing such a good job at fingering that tight little pussy for me.”

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, “Keep talking to me like that, please baby.”

“Oh, you like dirty talk?” he chuckled through his panting, as you whined in response. “I bet your pussy tastes so good. I can’t wait to have my tongue inside of you. I can’t wait to be the one to have you making all those pretty little sounds.”

Ethan kept talking, as you placed your other hand on your clit, rubbing fast circles as you pumped your fingers in and out, angling them just right. Your hips started to arch off the bed, your entire body getting so hot as you whined out, your orgasm washing over you as your shaky hands tried to keep moving.

“Did you just cum all over your fingers, baby?” Ethan asked, a low groan slipping out as he waited for your answer.

“Yes,” you shakily whimpered, as you slowly slid your fingers out of your pussy. “Now I need you to cum for me.”

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, your name rolling off his tongue as he shot his cum all over his chest and abs.

As you lay on your bed, catching your breath, Ethan was laying on his, hours away from you, doing the same. You couldn’t stop smiling, your brain still hazy when Ethan spoke up.

“That was so hot…can we do that again sometime?”

“We could…or you could experience the real thing in two weeks…” you trailed off, Ethan’s eyes growing wide at your words.

“Are you sure, baby? I told you, I’ll wait as long as you want,” he said, as you sat up to put your clothes back on just in case your roommate came home earlier than expected.

“I know you would, but I love and trust you, and I know you’d take care of me. I want to have sex with you,” you said, smiling as you thought about it. “If you’re ready, that is.”

“Oh, I’m ready.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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romione-trope-fest · 2 months

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Call It What You Want - Romione Hidden Relationship

Title: Call It What You Want

Author: adenei

Selected Trope: Fake NOT Dating (Hidden Relationship)

Brief Summary: In a world where there is no Voldemort, Hogwarts is just an ordinary school for witchcraft and wizardry. The Golden Trio still pass through its hallowed halls for their seventh year, but not as you’d expect. Hermione Granger, of Ravenclaw is—naturally—Head Girl, and Ron Weasley, of Gryffindor, was named alongside her as Head Boy. It’s everything Hermione’s ever dreamed of, except there’s one small problem. After a falling out in fifth year, Hermione and Ron don’t get along. Or so everyone thinks.

Word Count: 2,771 (Chapter 1 of a multichapter story)

Rating: T

TW: None

This is not how tonight was supposed to go.

Hermione rubs her temples with the thumb and middle finger of her left hand, squeezing her eyes shut. Blots of ink drip from the tip of the quill in her right hand, hovering over the box labeled ‘7 November’ on the magically duplicated parchment, soaking through and threatening to stain the old maple of the worn desk. There are other things she’d like to be doing against this desk right now instead of creating the rounds schedule like the dutiful Head Girl she is. Like writing her Ancient Runes essay.

Yes, her Runes essay is exactly what she’d rather be doing. Not this stupid round schedule that she shouldn’t even be completing alone. The Head Boy should be helping. The Head Boy who should also be back by now. The one she’s been daydreaming about for the last thirty minutes. Visions of him shoving everything off the smooth desktop to lay her down on it so they can—nope. That’s definitely not what she’d rather be doing instead.

She sets down the quill, bunches up the parchment and tosses it in the bin. “Ugh. This is stupid.”

The whole thing is stupid, really. Hermione swore to herself she’d play this whole thing cool. She can manage ‘cool’, right? It shouldn’t be hard.

Yet here she is, fixating on him, the boy who’s always intent on letting her down. Who can’t even bother being on time after he said he would.

Empty promises.

Maybe this is a bad idea, after all.

She pushes the wooden chair with leather upholstery out from the desk and escapes into her bedroom. There’s no point in staying in her uniform anymore. Tonight’s assigned Prefects are already on duty. It’s not like they’re going to come and request assistance. Hermione doesn’t know why she bothers to stay dressed until at least ten every evening.

I know why.

God, she hates the singsong voice taunting her mind. She will not think about the other reasons she’s still dressed in her uniform. How the tie makes it easy for him to pull her close. How the white button-up shirt is translucent enough to pique his imagination, making it impossible for him to hide his desire. How the loose pleated skirt can offer easy access for him to—

Nope. I said we weren’t going there.

Plus, it’s not like she’s let things go that far. Though, she wonders if that could possibly be the reason she’s so fixated on her desire right now. Maybe she needs to experience the release and then she can not be so wound up for no damn reason. Because she’s being ridiculous—she needs to get it together. When has Hermione Granger ever let her thoughts distract her to this level of being completely incapable of doing anything?

She pulls out her comfiest pair of blue plaid pajama bottoms and a matching black vest with Ravenclaw’s crest on the upper right chest. Once she’s slipped off her skirt and replaced it with the worn-in, faded fabric, she works slowly at the buttons of her shirt. Is she going to fully turn-in for the evening? Does she really not want to see him at all? Can she fall asleep without knowing why he blew her off?

With fingertips grazing the front clasp of her periwinkle bralette, she ultimately decides to leave it for now. She’s not quite ready to shut him out tonight. Not yet. She’ll give him thirty more minutes while she reads by the fire.

Still, there’s a voice in the back of her mind trying to convince her to just shut and lock her door. ‘Ice him out. Give him the silent treatment.’ But she wants the satisfaction of seeing him squirm as he tries to make some half-arsed excuse as to why he’s late.

Clearly, he’s not taking his duties seriously—not taking her seriously. What a typical Gryffindor. What on earth was Professor McGonagall thinking?

Hermione swipes the novel she’s currently reading off of her nightstand and stomps back out to the common area, plopping down on the sofa in front of the fireplace. She doesn’t even need the wool blue and bronze blanket draped over the back because the fire manages to keep the small room so warm—almost too warm.

Well, something needs to keep me warm tonight.

She tries desperately to get lost in her book. It takes longer than necessary, but eventually, the plot takes a turn, drawing her in with the promise of a mysterious prince taking interest in the stubborn, independent main character who is out to prove that she doesn’t need a man to complete her.

And naturally, once she’s sucked into the witty banter of the main characters, there’s a soft click that echoes across the mostly empty space as the door opens and shuts. In walks the bane of her existence, forehead glistening with what she assumes to be sweat; the tips of his red fringe wet.

Eyes peering over the top of her book—and against her better judgment—she drinks him in as he kicks off his standard broom-riding leather boots. Damn him for bending over and showing off the sculpted muscles of his arse in those tight khaki pants. And damn her for all but drooling over it. It’s like he knows she’s going to be pissed and needs to break her resolve. The red and gold jersey doesn’t help either, given that it threatens to rip open any time his arms flex. How she’d love to grab it by the number ‘two’ plastered on his back and rip it off of him so it’ll stop turning her on when she’s supposed to be mad at him.

Yes, because getting him shirtless is going to help the anger situation.

Hermione forces her eyes back to the book, but still catches the way he beams his stupid lopsided smile at her when he finally turns around. Why does he have to be so cocky and confident and put together all the freaking time? Even when he’s not, he still manages to pull off ‘effortless’ like it’s nothing. She should be lucky he wants to spend time with her at all, given he’s so out of her league.

Sure, pair the brainy little Ravenclaw with the jocky Gryffindor fuckboy. Dumbledore probably had a right laugh making that decision. They get along fine. Ha. That’s what he thinks. Of course, they used to, before he did the one thing that fucked everything up fifth year.

Stop. Things have been fine so far. More than fine. I’m sure he has a perfectly good excuse for why he’s—

“Hey.” He breaks her out of her spiral. “Sorry I’m late. Practice ran a little over, then I thought I’d hit the Prefects Bathroom to shower before heading—”

Hermione huffs a little too loudly.

“What?”

“Save it, Ron. I don’t need your excuses.”

“It’s…not? Demelza would not let up tonight. She wanted the Chasers to perfect this play and begged me to stay an extra twenty minutes.”

She raises an eyebrow and allows her gaze to settle on him, searching for sincerity in the striking cornflower blue of his eyes. Ugh, she hates how those eyes can damn near melt her with a single heated look, much like the one he’s giving her now. Like he knows what she’s about to say, but is challenging her to do it anyway.

And naturally, she does. “Right. So, then you needed a, what, thirty minute shower? In the Prefects Bathroom, no less, when you could have come straight here?”

Even though he’s goading her and should be fully expecting it, his jaw still drops. He folds his arms, and—ugh, for Merlin’s sake she needs to stop staring at the contours of his chest—shakes his head slightly. A scoff escapes his throat.

“You don’t believe me.”

“Do you really expect me to? It’s okay, you can tell me if you got mauled by your groupies. I can’t imagine having a fan club follow me around like the sun shines out of my—”

“I do not have groupies. Those fourth and fifth years are always after Harry.”

“Right—”

“And I’m not lying to you.”

“Of course you’re not. Because the first thing I always like to do after taking a shower is put on the sweaty clothes I just stripped off to get clean from.” She shoves the bookmark in her book and slams it down on the sofa as she finally stands to face him.

The frustration in his eyes shifts as soon as the words come tumbling out of her mouth. She’s not even sure if he’s still listening, given the way his eyes flit down to her heaving chest. Unabashed desire falls over his face as his eyes darken and the corner of his lip curls upward. For a split second, she wonders what could possibly possess his face to transform that way. Because it’s not entirely want. If it was, she doesn’t think they’d be standing this far apart.

Studying his expression a little longer, she wills her mind to connect the dots. She knows that look from somewhere. But…where? And then the familiarity suddenly hits her. It’s the face he makes when he finds the checkmate.

Nice try, Weasley, but you’re not winning this one.

It’s beyond annoying, not to mention ridiculous. There’s no way he can win this. Her logic is sound and his story doesn’t line up. If he thinks he’s going to get out of this one, she’d like to see him try.

He takes a step closer, but remains on the other side of the sofa. His arms relax as his hands grip the back of the sofa while he stares intently at her. “You know I have two practice jerseys right?”

“No,” she responds automatically before her eyes go wide.

She purses her lips and is tempted to stand down, but she refuses. Hermione Granger does not back down from a fight. Even if she knows what’s coming and he’s got her cornered. As much as she doesn’t want to, there’s nothing left to do but brace herself for the inevitable checkmate and prepare for a rematch.

“Mental, isn’t it? Having more than one? I mean, I could see why you’d think that—most players offer their jerseys to girlfriends or boyfriends to wear as support during matches. But considering our first match isn’t for another month, I haven’t given mine away yet. It’s still sitting in my Prefect locker—well, it was. You haven’t forgotten we have those too, have you?”

Her nostrils flare. She hates the way he gloats. “No,” she spits, knowing he won’t go on until she acknowledges the question.

“Yeah, well, you were right, though. I was a sweaty mess and didn’t want to come back looking like that. But I also know how much you like the uniform, so…it seemed like the perfect solution.”

Her jaw twitches. Okay, so he wasn’t off with another girl. Not that she really thought he would be anyway. She supposes maybe she’s just overcompensating—desperate to hear him say he only has eyes for her. But that would be delusional.

Just because they do, in fact, work well together, and they happen to have an agreement in place, doesn’t mean he’s going to be that forward. Besides, he clearly isn’t as serious as she is about their agreement given his tardiness—which further reiterates her decision to take things slow—and that’s precisely what she hones in on next.

“Yes, well, it’s already well past nine, and if you happen to recall, we were supposed to start the Round schedule for November tonight.”

“I’m aware.” His hands clench and Hermione’s gaze follows as the tightness ripples up his forearms, through his biceps to his neck and jaw.

Satisfied she’s swiped the relaxed, cocky demeanor out from beneath him, she’s certain she’ll take the next win. “Well, I don’t particularly appreciate having all the work shoved on me. Just because I’m a Ravenclaw with a high work ethic and the need to have everything organized and done weeks in advance does not mean I will be picking up your slack by completing it on my own.”

And he doesn’t need to know that I almost did, either.

“Hermione, who says I’m shoving the work off on—it’s October fifteenth—”

She cuts him off. “And we promised McGonagall a draft by Monday! Just because I can manage my schedule does not mean I’ll be bailing you out. The Heads are supposed to work together. It’s not my fault you’ve got Quidditch and Chess and all your classes to account for. I’m busy too, you know. I’ve got a heavy NEWT load, and can’t lose precious study time working on schedules by myself because you’re too busy playing Gryffindor’s savior on the pitch.”

“Are you seriously going to hold that team meeting on the Express over my head all year? I told you it wouldn’t be long and I’d be back to help. No one asked you to make the first week’s schedule on your own. I wanted to help.”

Hermione throws up her hands and turns to head to her room. “I’m not holding anything against you. I’m just saying, if I’m not important—if this isn’t important—then maybe we should rethink—”

Ron’s large, warm, freckly hand grabs hers and spins her around before he backs her into the frame of the door, his body flush against hers. It nearly knocks the wind right out of her lungs. Her spine is so erect that she almost doesn’t notice how her chest is pushed out, but when she tilts her head up to meet his gaze, she realizes very quickly that he does.

“You are important. But we have an image to maintain, remember? The one we agreed on? I couldn’t exactly tell my teammates to sod off because I had somewhere to be. They probably thought they were doing me a favor, keeping me later.”

It’s all she can do not to let her eyelids flutter shut as his hot breath hits her cheek. He definitely showered, all right. The warm, spiced scent of his soap invades her senses, and suddenly it’s difficult to think of anything else.

“I guess,” she concedes.

His knuckles graze her hips before blazing a tantalizing trail up her sides. It’s slow. It’s sensual. It’s everything she’s ever dreamed of. Eventually, his fingers tangle in her hair as his palms cup her face. Twenty-nine days and counting and she’s still not used to it. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be.

But before she lets herself get lost in his touch, his smell, his gaze, she notices his face split into a wide grin. He’s got one more trick up his sleeve, but at this point she doesn’t care. She just wants to feel his lips on hers. Because fourteen hours and three minutes—give or take—is far too long since the last time.

“By the way, if you’d checked the top right drawer, you might have noticed I already filled out half of November’s schedule.”

“You—what?”

His smile softens so that it’s more sheepish, but it’s still radiant as ever. “Yeah. Figured I owed you for September.”

“But we’re supposed to be doing it—”

“Together, I know. Except I’d rather be doing this instead.”

He swoops down and captures her lips with his, taking her breath away. She should really be used to this by now, but she’s not. Not even close. Her hands drift up his chest, grasping the jersey she was ogling not fifteen minutes ago, tugging and pulling at it. Because as good as it looks on him, she wants it off. Now.

His hands shift down to cup her arse, lifting her up and she wraps her legs around his waist. Her teeth scrape his bottom lip before her tongue darts into his mouth, eliciting a groan from deep within his chest.

“Fuck,” he says as he tears his mouth away from hers, peppering kisses along her jaw and down toward her neck. “So, we’re done rowing about the rounds schedule now, yeah? Because if it’s all the same to you, I’ve been waiting all day to do this.”

Hermione tilts her neck to give him easier access as her hands rake through the soft thicket of red hair as she guides him to the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Please,” she sighs with contented relief. All the tension she’s been holding evaporates with every kiss. “Though, I can think of some more comfortable places to snog other than against this door frame.

He smiles against her collarbone. “Right. Your room okay?”

“Always.”

As he carries her into her bedroom and kicks the door shut, Hermione can’t help feeling foolish for picking such a ridiculous fight. But she loves the thrill of going toe-to-toe with him because it makes the snogging—and then some—so much better.

It’s okay that he’s late—really, it is—because it means that their secret is safe. Outside these walls, it’s all an act. They’re indifferent toward each other, tolerable for the sake of being Head Boy and Head Girl. Working together only because they have to.

Little does everyone know they’re doing a lot more than working. It’s thrilling, really. Unbeknownst to the rest of the school, Ron Weasley is her boyfriend. And so far, it’s practically perfect in every way.

#submission #fake not dating #hidden relationship #romione #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger

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sungbeam · 8 months

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𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞

agent!kim sunwoo x agent!fem!reader

6.3k words, enemies 2 implied lovers?, spy au, angst, action, swearing, depictions of violence/blood/weaponry, drinking, UNREALISTIC STANDARDS FOR HOW LONG SOMEONE CAN BLEED OUT T_T, mentions of murder and death, i think that's the bulk of it?

a/n: requests now closed! omg i actually had quite the trouble writing this one 🤧 but i hope it's still enjoyable!! thanks so much @shakalakaboomboo for ur req <3

There was something about the rain tonight that would make the smell of blood even more distinct. The moment you stepped out of the cab, you were hit by a wave of hot, all-consuming heat, accompanied by the insistent drumming of the downpour. The near abandoned streets tonight were doused in the scent of petrichor, and you blinked the water out of your eyes as you made your way toward the entrance of the building of interest.

Just as you had expected, Chanhee had logged your identification into the system, and your card alerted green with no problem. The man standing guard by the scanner passed you a nod. “Evening, Miss.”

You gave a nod back, sweeping your hand through your drenched hair to get it out of your eyes. “Good evening. Is there a bathroom nearby? I’m kind of new to the building.”

He pointed down the hall, around the corner. “Right that way. Have a good night.”

“Thanks, you, too. Stay dry!” You added the last part with a lighthearted smile, coaxing a similar expression from the guard who no doubt had a long night ahead of him. If everything worked out okay, he would still be able to leave alive. If everything worked out perfectly, then everyone could leave this building alive tonight.

You winced to yourself as the soles of your shoes squelched with each step, the shiny marble floors becoming even more shiny as water dripped down to form a trail to the bathroom. You found the ladies’ washroom right where the man had said it would be and let yourself in.

You saw his reflection before you even saw him. Your heart leapt in your chest, but that slowly came back down to Earth when your brain processed who it was. Eyes narrowed, you went over to the middle stall and enclosed yourself within.

“Took you long enough,” Kim Sunwoo, the bane of your existence, drawled. He stood outside of the stalls, leaning against the sink counter, with his body fully equipped with all the necessary items. He seemed to be fully dry, despite it having rained cats and dogs outside. The suit was dry, his hair was dry. Everything about him was pristine and neat and ready to go—howdy doo.

You glared at the door as if you were Superman with x-ray vision and laser eyes. There was a garment bag hanging on the back of the stall that you swiftly unzipped to swap out your drenched clothes with. “What the fuck are you doing in the women’s restroom, you perv?”

“Well, the only other person in here is you, so I wouldn’t say it was much of a scandal. It’s just you, after all,” he replied snidely.

You shivered as the air hit your cold, wet skin, and you hobbled into the pair of dress slacks that were given to you. You really hoped that Chanhee hadn’t given you a pair of chunky loafers just for “fashion’s” sake this time. (You appreciated his fashion advice on any other occasion, except when you were on an assignment.) To your relief, they were a simple pair of flats, and you dug out a note in the left shoe with Chanhee’s scrawl: Found the most boring, “practical” pair of shoes in the closet. You’re welcome.

“Do you ever worry about sounding like an asshole?” You voiced out into the echoey bathroom as you buttoned up your blouse and donned your suit jacket. “Oh, wait. I forgot that assholes don’t have to worry about sounding like an asshole.”

You could hear his eyes roll from behind the door.

Once you were done, you shoved all your sopping wet clothes into the garment bag and stepped out of the stall to twist your hair up and off your shoulders. Sunwoo eyed you from his little corner. There was a screen propped in one of his gloved hands as he went over the schematics of the building and where the two of you needed to go to retrieve the required target before the auction.

“Are we ready, princess?” He asked sarcastically while you double checked the weapons and tools hidden in certain parts of your clothing. Knives, ammo, lock picks, and a gun.

You ignored his mocking nickname for you. "Do you have the money?" You asked him as you both started making your way to the bathroom door.

"No." He nearly crashed face first into your back from how abruptly you stopped. He frowned. "Can you move—?"

You whirled on him. "We can't go to an auction to bid on an item without money," you said, feeling your pulse rise in your neck.

"We can," he huffed, reaching around you to open the door and usher you out, "if we're not there to bid."

"Since when were we not going to bid for it?" Your head went on a swivel, voice low, as you stuck close to Sunwoo on the way over to the private set of elevators further down the hall. It was awfully quiet in the lobby, save for the sounds of your breathing and footsteps.

Sunwoo passed you his device and reached into his jacket pocket to toss you a card on a lanyard. "Since Changmin and I decided it would be easier to just steal the damn thing instead."

Your head raced as you skimmed through the schematics and plans that Sunwoo and Changmin had come up with. These were blueprints of the auction room, neighboring rooms, and vents. Yeah, chunky loafers would not have done you any favors tonight.

But footwear wasn't the problem. The problem was that half the team had gone and decided on a whole new plan without consulting the other half. You jammed your finger against the "up" button to summon the elevator. "Of course, you would go behind my back and just decide this."

He tucked his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. "The director already okayed it. Plus, they weren't willing to give us more money than they approved of."

The elevator doors opened, and the both of you stepped inside. Sunwoo reached over and jammed his thumb against floor forty-two.

You leaned your head against the elevator wall, eyes fluttering closed. You would have throttled the director for not approving of more money being put towards this assignment. You thought it would only make sense since the flash drive that was being auctioned off tonight contained such highly sensitive information. It just didn't make sense.

"If we won the auction the right way," Sunwoo suddenly said as you mentally cartwheeled through about a dozen potential scenarios and concerns, "that would simply put a target on our backs for those who want it. Stealing it first would keep our identities low profile."

You had to admit that his words had some reason to them. You watched the numbers on the elevator tick-tock its way up to level forty-two. "So what's the plan, Oh Mighty One?" You asked, inspecting the card on the lanyard around your neck. It had the same identification as the card you'd used to get into the building, but this one had a special seal in the corner that would no doubt be used to get you into the auction itself.

"You're gonna cut the lights, and I'm gonna steal the drive."

Your head whipped toward him. "You're shitting me. I'm not a man-in-the-chair, Sunwoo."

"Never said you were," he said. "It's just too risky to have us both go for it."

Something creeped into your chest and your fingers clenched around your lanyard. "Don't give me that bullshit," you said, having to pull back a full-on snarl. "Just say you have zero faith in me to my face." It was just like the academy all over again. You could hear his taunts egging you on from across the sparring mat, could envision his gaze cutting toward you with every first rank he received. He was good at almost everything, while you had to haul ass to even get to second.

You were so sick of being underestimated.

He considered you for a moment, but you couldn't look him in the eye, choosing instead to stare straight ahead at the steel doors of the elevator. He opened his mouth to say something, but the elevator slowed to a stop and the two of you had to walk out onto the floor.

The two of you fell into step with one another as you made your way down the hall to the large pair of doors at the end. There were two men stationed on either side, dressed in the typical dark suits and earpieces. Attached to their belts, you noted the shotguns hanging there. If you could get closer, you might be able to identify the model…

"IDs," said the one on the right when you and Sunwoo approached.

You and Sunwoo held your cards face up, and both guards took a device from their back pockets to scan the seals in the corner. When their devices lit up green, they reached for the doors and beckoned you through.

The auction room itself looked cavernous with its wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, ceiling dripping with panels of modern lighting, and pedestals littered about the room like a fancy showroom of expensive black market items. You and Sunwoo stuck together mainly, thankfully not sticking out like a sore thumb thanks to the business smart attire you'd changed into. There were a few people with more luxury branded garments on, but other than that, it seemed Chanhee had hit the dress code right on its nose.

Sunwoo tapped you on the arm with the back of his hand, his fingers subtly marking out the chairs, the second floor railing around the perimeter of the room, and the guarded door by the foot of the stage. "We need a distraction to get in there. Once we get inside, we'll have plenty of time to grab the thingamajig since it's the last on the—"

"Hold on—the thingamajig?" Your face screwed up in incredulity.

"Are you judging? Why are you judging?" He asked, plucking twin flutes of champagne off an orbiting waiter's tray. He handed you one. "Drink this. Act natural."

You rolled your eyes and chugged the glass. While you did think Sunwoo was good at a lot of things, alcohol tolerance was one of the few where you came out on top. Right now, you were going to take full advantage of it because that liquid courage was definitely needed. "You say that like I've never done this before, lightweight."

"Oh, shut up."

You and Sunwoo lingered for a moment, pretending to eye the list of auction items being displayed on the flat screen on stage. According to the countdown timer, the two of you only had a few minutes before—

The lights went out.

A gasp fell over the crowd as you placed your empty glass on a nearby table and grabbed Sunwoo by the upper arm. "That wasn't you, was it?" You whispered to him, making your way toward the side of the room where the back door was.

"Yes, because I can control electricity with my mind," he hissed back at you.

"Everyone, please remain calm—" a man had stepped onto the stage and was attempting to placate everyone in the room. He had his hands held out, an easygoing smile on his face. All of the guards and staff members were holding up emergency flashlights, and a few other guests were beginning to pull out their cellphones.

Yours and Sunwoo's eyes darted from the crowd to the man guarding the back door. To your surprise, you saw the man pause at something in his earpiece, before turning around to enter the door he was guarding.

"Fuck, catch the door," you said to Sunwoo, grabbing the glass out of his hand and shoving him toward the door.

He launched for it, barely shoving his body through the opening before it clicked shit. He grimaced as you caught up to him. "This door is fucking heavy," he said, baring his teeth at you when he noticed you were trying to prevent the champagne from spilling. "Can you put down the damn alcohol, Ln?"

"It might come in handy," you quipped, slipping in through the door behind him.

When the door shut behind you, the hallway was encased in darkness, save for the haunting red EXIT signs above your heads, one at each end of the hallway. You followed Sunwoo's lead since he'd been the one to study the blueprints of this place, your free hand grazing over the pistol hanging from your belt beneath the flap of your suit jacket.

"What the hell happened? That wasn't one of us, was it?" You voiced into the dark.

Sunwoo had whipped out a small flashlight and put the butt in his mouth to hold while he jimmied the opposite door open. "Mm-mm," his answer was muffled, but you knew what he meant. The door fell open a little too easily, and Sunwoo only cocked his head in curiosity for a moment, then he was moving forward.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you heard voices echoing from somewhere within this next room. The AC was jacked up to a decently high power here, keeping the room cool and dry for all the items that were supposedly being auctioned. This next room was a labyrinth of shelves, and through them, you could make out the movement of lights slicing through the spaces.

"This feels too easy," you murmured to your partner as the two of you peered through the cracks between shelves.

"Yeah, no kidding," he muttered back. "I think somebody is trying to steal something, too."

"The drive?"

"Could be."

The voices came closer, footsteps shuffling and light swarming through the shelves like visible beams through a thick fog.

You grabbed onto Sunwoo again and yanked his arm over your shoulders. You felt him stiffen. "Act drunk, you idiot," you instructed into his ear, "and when they get close enough, do the thing."

He sent you a look. "The thing? And why do I have to be the drunk one again—"

"Freeze!"

Both you and Sunwoo's heads shot up as bright lights blinded your vision. You couldn't tell how many there were—two? Three? But you felt Sunwoo relax in your hold as he sunk into the role you'd assigned him.

"I'm so sorry," you lamented, holding up the flute of champagne in your hand. "My friend over here just drank waaay too much at the open bar and started wandering."

The lights were nearing. "How did you two get back here?" Asked the same voice.

"The door was unlocked during the power outage! I am so—" Your eyes found the circle shapes of the muzzles of handguns being pointed at you and your partner when they had neared enough, "—sorry. We're just a little lost now."

You squeezed Sunwoo's side as you hobbled the two of you closer to the lights like a damsel in distress. "Just point us in the right direction and we'll be—"

If you didn't know Sunwoo like you did, you probably wouldn't have even registered what just happened. But within the blink of an eye, you felt him leave your grasp, and you tossed the glass of champagne at one of your opponents. "Hey, catch!"

On instinct, the one across from you had to drop something to catch the flying glass of champagne, and unlucky for them, it happened to be their gun. Your foot kicked that sucker like a soccer ball beneath the nearest shelf. You grabbed the champagne out of their hand—thanked them for holding it—then smashed the glass over their head.

Quick and easy, yet your heart was pounding against your chest. What the hell was going on?

When you were finished, you leaned down to pick up the fallen flashlight. Sunwoo was looming over his own opponent with his boot on the man's chest, and he pocketed the spare gun while the flashlight hung from his other hand.

You both looked at each other. "We gotta go."

"I can't believe you made me do the drunk scenario."

"Can you just shut up and focus?"

Navigating the maze of shelving was a lot easier with the flashlights. At least now, both of you could see where you were going without fear of anyone else catching you. But when neither of you found the so-called hard drive you were tasked with retrieving, you were met instead by another door leading out to another unknown location.

Sunwoo dove in headfirst. (Right, he studied the maps. Ugh.) "I have a feeling someone's taken the drive already, so be prepared to shoot."

The next room was a long corridor that sloped downward toward a lone elevator. Creepy.

You scowled. "Like I'm never prepared to shoot?"

His gaze was equally as disgruntled. "Just because you got the highest marks in all of our projectiles classes doesn't mean you'll actually shoot."

That remark was something akin to an arrow to your chest. A muscle feathered in your jaw as he called the elevator up to the floor. "You were the top of class in projectile training; you have a license to kill; and yet, you have zero kills in your stats."

How the…? "I don't have to kill to execute my objective. Those aren't assignments I take," you countered, stepping into the elevator when it opened its jaws for you.

Sunwoo crossed his arms over his chest. "Ln, you didn't even take the gun away from the guy earlier. That is protocol."

"I have a gun—"

"That's not the problem, and you know it." He snarled. He took a step near you, both of your tensions rising, heat boiling between your two gazes, nostrils flared. "Just think about it, huh? How many times could you have made it easier on yourself by shooting your way out of something? You know what I would do to have an aim like yours? It's a fucking gift in this field, Ln. And yet, here you are, too scared to even hold a gun—"

You stepped into his space, got up in his face. "You know fucking nothing about me, so quit acting like you do," you snarled and forced the tremor out of your voice. Your hand fisted at your side, close to the weapon you were cursed and gifted to always be tied to.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek and you were so close to him that you could measure the length of his eyelashes. "What in hell happened to you?"

The elevator dinged. You'd arrived.

You pulled away, mentally shaking yourself away from this conversation. "Don't start acting like you care now."

"I don't," he said as you both walked out of the elevator into a massive underground parking structure beneath the building. "I just need to know that I can count on you if we're in trouble."

"You can," you answered. But there was a microscopic break there, and you were certain he'd heard it, too. There was a question in his stare—he was never as good with guns, but he could fight his way out of a scenario just as well. You were the right choice out of the two of you for anything long range, but the question was if you could still live up to that one-trick reputation.

The underground garage created the perfect echo chamber for loud noises. You and Sunwoo simply followed the audible cacophony coming from further within the garage. Gun rounds were being unloaded without mercy, tire squeals were shut down by no doubt those same gun shots.

You wiped your hand on your pants, sticky from the champagne from earlier, as you and your partner pressed yourselves up against two columns. Just beyond, there was an active shootout taking place—which side had the merchandise, you weren't quite sure of.

Sunwoo signaled to you in a way you recognized from games of capture the flag at the academy. Two fingers swished toward the men behind the cars closest to him, then for you, the ones on your side. Heart hammering against your ribcage, you could only nod, and enclosed your fingers around the handle of the gun in your belt.

You blindly double checked the ammunition loaded up in your firearm, but it was futile since you'd already checked in the bathroom much earlier. It was loaded completely, and very much ready to fire.

You didn't need Sunwoo to signal, because you seemed to know exactly when the other was going to whip around the stone column and take one person out at a time.

Arm—one down—a leg, oh, was that a thigh?—but there went two off your side, as easy as shooting clay pigeons. Instead of a jitteriness filling your nerves, everything seemed to muffle and calm when you had a gun between your fingers. Like second nature, you picked off people (without killing them) before they even realized their mates were gone.

You would nail them in the arm, the shoulder, the butt, the leg, then duck behind the pillar for cover. Guns had become too easy of a game for you.

You barely even noticed that the others on Sunwoo's side started shooting at both of you.

"Fuck," you heard your counterpart curse as he pressed himself against the column.

The two of you connected gazes, and he didn't even have to ask before you were pulling down the hammer again and taking aim—

"LN—YN! BEHIND YOU!"

Your heart lurched into your throat, and you dove.

A line of bullets buried themselves into the concrete where your head had been, and you winced, feeling the burn of concrete through your clothes.

You rolled behind the nearest car, swearing as you clambered to your knees for cover. Somebody had set up a few cars behind you, ready to take you out with an automatic rifle.

"Sunwoo, you need to cover me," you shouted at him, glancing over your shoulder for his visual confirmation.

He gave a firm nod, already leaping into hand-to-hand action and ditching his gun for his more trustworthy melee weapons instead.

Through the windows of the car, you could just make out movement of the gunman. You crawled over to the other side of the car, tracking the feet and legs you could see beneath the vehicles. You reloaded your pistol, smacking the magazine into place, then pressing the hammer down.

Shots suddenly rained down on you, and you pressed yourself further to the ground.

"Come on, come on," you urged, "reload already."

And when you heard that beautiful sound of silence, you yanked yourself to your feet, pointed the barrel through the window, and shot. You heard the curse, and it was enough for you to whip over the back of the car and smack the butt of your gun into their head. The gunman went crashing to the concrete; you tucked your pistol away and picked up the automatic.

The heft of the gun was an old friend—it sank over you in cold realization… how much damage you could do with this.

With pursed lips, you emptied out the gun and kicked it under the car.

You rushed to line up a shot with your pistol to help Sunwoo who was juggling a fight against two others.

He didn't need that much help, but there was the glint of a knife, and you didn't even blink. The bullet buried itself in one of their shoulders, and Sunwoo elbowed him off his back, shoving the other's face into the car in front of him. He yanked his opponent's hair back and smashed their head into the metal again.

"You got it?" You asked him, sliding over the hoods of cars to get back.

He knew what you meant. Blood ran down his nose and there was a purplish cut on his lip. Sweat dripped down the side of his face as he dumped the now unconscious foe to the concrete. "Yeah, it went flying somewhere over there," he inclined his head down a row of cars, and you gave a nod.

The two of you jogged over in the direction Sunwoo asserted and began looking for the discarded drive.

You straightened after ducking beneath a car, but your eyes caught a flash of someone—your instincts lurched.

"Fuck, Sunwoo—!" You had the time to shove him out of the way as the rounds went flying past your heads and you tackled him.

Something pierced into the skin of your shoulder though, and you felt the bullet rip through your clothes and flay your skin as it passed. Your hand slapped over your arm as you fellz Sunwoo's stabilizing you. "Shit, Ln," he said, grasping your good side.

"It's the guy from earlier," you groaned, feeling the blood begin to pool.

"Huh? What guy—"

"The one I didn't take the gun from in the hall." The regret poured into you as swiftly as your blood flowed out of you. "I'll cover you—just find the damn thing."

He sent you a look, but nodded. "Okay."

You were lucky you hadn't been nicked in your good arm, you thought, as you clambered to your knees and peered over the edge of the car.

There he was, the man you'd smashed over the head with a glass. His forehead was bleeding profusely, but he still stumbled toward you, cocking his gun and firing. You ducked, crouching around the car to get to the other side. Mind racing for strategies, you thought you could easily take him down one limb at a time like the others.

All thoughts went flying out the window though when the man started barreling toward you, teeth bared, like a bull seeing red. You yelped as a bullet pelted the ground an inch from your hand. You ducked behind the car, ignoring the pain in your shoulder to palm your gun and aim.

You heard it hit its target.

But he just kept running.

"Are you serious?" You cursed, then regretting it immediately when he threw himself across the hood of the car to knock you down.

You cried out as your head hit the car behind you, the pain stabbing white in your vision. Adrenaline and fear pumped through you as you fought to keep his hands away from your neck. You even found where your bullet had lodged itself and pressed on it.

He grunted at the feeling, nearly twisting your arm off for that. You were trying, trying, trying.

His gun was gone; it didn't matter. You weren't good at hand to hand.

And your grip on his thick fucking wrists slipped. His hands were around your throat. You couldn't breathe—you thrashed around, smashed your gun against his face. He swept your efforts away, determination pressing his thumbs into the hollow—

BANG!

You saw the life drain out of his eyes. He fell over you, blood and a smoking gun sandwiched between your bodies.

Oxygen rushed into your lungs and you coughed. The realization hit you, a hammer striking against the percussion cap.

You just killed this man. You just shot him, point blank.

Oh god—you heaved his limp body off you, his blood staining your clothing, and you felt like Lady Macbeth, scrambling over blood that would not wash away.

"Yn!" Sunwoo's voice.

You wrestled to your hands and knees. "It's not my blood," you coughed, dry gagging at the sight of the pale body, rigid from rigor mortis.

Your mind was everywhere. Another one dead. What if he had a family? What if what if what if—?

"Ln, come on, you're alive. You can do it."

You were on your feet. There was a ringing in your ears from when your head smashed against the car.

Sunwoo ran over to you and threw your good arm over his shoulder to get you to the car he had broken into. "There you go. Hey, I got the drive. How 'bout that?" He wiggled a slim, black tab—the thing that had caused all of tonight's trouble.

You shook out the orbs dancing in your vision. How hard had your head been struck? "It still feels too easy."

"Don't say that," he groaned. "I just wanna get out of this place."

You really shouldn't have spoken so soon.

You heard the shot before you felt it; then the next one, then the next.

Sunwoo twisted around to shoot three rounds himself, silencing one of the people who had gotten the strength to pull himself up for one last try.

All breath left your throat as your hand reached for your lower abdomen. One of the bullets had gone through, piercing the side of your stomach. It had gone all the way through, back to front, the bullet lodged in the metal of the car in front of you.

You couldn't even see which blood stain was yours.

"Nonononono," Sunwoo chanted as your knees buckled and you started slipping to the ground. "Yn—Yn, stay with me," he urged, laying you gently on the ground.

The pain twisted itself until your eyes watered. You thought you tasted blood in your mouth. "Should've shot them dead like you said," you managed to say.

Sunwoo leaned over you, panic wide in his dark eyes as he held your face between his palms. "Yn, honey, you need to stay with me." He pressed his hands over the wounds opening and you screamed, the sound grating against his ears. He knew it hurt—god, he knew, but he needed to stop the bleeding somehow. Oh fuck.

"I'm sorry I screwed up so many times," you grunted to him. You tasted the iron coating your throat and suppressed the urge to cough it all out. You could barely think with the fucking hole in your stomach, but all you knew was that if he wasn't quick, the shot could be fatal.

"I'm gonna get you out of here." You could hear the resolve in his voice, but the shaky undertone, too. You'd never heard his voice shake before. "Don't apologize." Not until I get you out alive.

He scooped you up and you screwed your face up in agony. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your teeth clamping down on your tongue to muffle the screams. There was blood in your mouth.

It hurt. Fucking hell, it hurt.

He went through the motions of wrestling the car door open, laying you in the passenger seat, trying to find something to staunch the bleeding on both sides.

The whole time, you kept your eyes on his face, trying to ingrain his features in your memory. The blood from his nose had partly dried, but the cut on his lips made his bottom one even poutier.

You'd never seen him so worried, or scared, with the crease between his brows. You wanted to reach up and rub it away.

"Hey," you rasped, catching his wild eyes. "Stop fussing over me and drive."

He clicked his tongue, eyes darting between your face and the knot he was tying with the jacket he found in the backseat. "Yah," he said half-heartedly, "don't tell me what to do."

He passed you another glance before shutting your door and running for the driver's seat.

As soon as Sunwoo collapsed into his side of the car, the elevator, from which you'd come, slid open. A flood of guards in armor and equipped with automatic weapons flooded out in a tidal wave. You both swore a colorful line of words.

"Drive, drive, drive—!" You urged, breaking out into coughs, then doubling over when the motion only intensified the bullet wound.

"What do you think I'm doing, woman!" He yelled and the tires squealed as he pulled out of the parking spot to make a mad dash for the exit.

Bullets fired at the car, lodging themselves in the metal and cracking the back windshield. You heard the glass shatter, and you reached for your gun to try and knock some of them off.

Sunwoo shoved your hand down. "Oh, no you don't. Save your energy, hot stuff."

It wasn't until he had navigated you both away safely from harm's way that you really let everything soak into your head. Your blood marinated the car seat beneath you, and you could feel your energy being siphoned toward the gaping hole in your stomach. Reality dawned on you faster and faster.

Did you fear death?

The streets were empty; it was still raining. You were right about the hot rain—it made the blood scent bolder.

Sunwoo made a turn onto a street, and another, to take any lingering tails off.

"I killed someone tonight," you voiced out into the quiet car amongst the humdrum of rain. It drizzled in through the shattered back windshield and onto the backseat.

"It's okay, Yn," he said quietly. "You had to."

You paused, swallowing. You inhaled sharply and you swore you were starting to get used to the throbbing all over your body. "You… you were right."

"You don't have to do that. Save your en—"

"No," you said with more force. His mouth snapped shut. "I just—" your eyes drifted closed for a moment, "—I just wanted to get this off my chest."

When he remained quiet to give you the space to speak, you told him, "What you said in the elevator was right… I uhm, I feel like a coward when I can't stomach a headshot anymore. I just… Sunwoo, I hate who, or what, I become when I have a gun in my hands."

You felt him glance over at you. "You're not a monster, if you think that's what you are," he murmured. You felt his hand cover yours where you were holding your injury.

"I've hurt a lot of people," you admitted, eyes staring out the front windshield. "The organization told me to pull the trigger, and I did. Even in the academy, I never felt good enough unless I was hitting a target." It had become a momentary triumph only, until every hit made you sink deeper and deeper into guilt. You had been tearing yourself apart at the seams, and you could remember those moments, seeing the fallen with people who cared about them rushing to their side.

The twisting in your stomach suddenly didn't feel like it was from the gunshot.

"Your record—"

"My record is doctored," you said blankly. "They wiped it when I gave up being a sniper."

He meditated on that for a moment, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. He winced when he was reminded of the injury there. "I know that I was and have been—not the greatest toward you—and... I'm sorry. I think some part of me just thought it would catch your attention—which is no excuse—but…" His finger tapped on the steering wheel in time with his blinker. "I always thought that you would go far regardless. I thought you'd be recruited as a sniper for the high profile shit."

A smile curled at the corner of your lips. "Yeah?"

He nodded, his own lips pressed together. "Yeah. The best, y'know? And I thought… at least as a sniper, you won't be in the line of fire."

Your chest throbbed. "I still got shot, too, though."

"Yeah, but…" He turned into a barren residential street, no doubt toward the safe house nearby. "They wouldn't be shooting at you, I guess. I dunno. That's what I was telling myself, anyway."

You shifted your head slightly to peer over at him. There was a sincerity to his words that you had almost never remembered hearing out of his mouth. You believed him—you believed that he cared. "Thinking about me in your free time, Kim?"

"You wish," he joked, but it was a weaker comeback.

The house he pulled up to was at the end of a cul-de-sac. It was the standard, cookie cutter suburban house, with its front lawn trimmed and windows dark and lifeless. Sunwoo carefully drove the car into the empty garage for privacy, then ran over to your side to help you out.

You could feel yourself falling out of consciousness with all the blood loss.

Your head was drooping as he picked you up in his arms again. The crease between his brows made a reappearance and with your last bit of strength, you reached up to gently rub it away with your thumb. "Hey… I'm gonna be okay," you whispered to him in the dark and quiet of the garage.

He swallowed, peering down at you. "You better be," he said. "Who's gonna have my back then?"

You smiled since you couldn't laugh. Maybe the blood loss was making you loopy (probably), but you swore he smiled just a teensy bit.

He managed to get you on the couch, and you whimpered at the surface beneath you. He disappeared for a moment, but when he returned, it was with a first aid kit and a phone. "I called headquarters; they'll be here in five," he murmured, kneeling next to you and beginning to peel off the blood coated fabrics.

You hissed, body squirming with whatever energy you had left. "I can't believe I'm still alive."

He huffed and gently applied pressure to the wound with gauze. "The only one who gets to kill you is me. Remember that."

"Yeah, yeah," you panted. "Sew me up or something."

"It's gonna hurt. Wanna hold my hand?"

Your eyes met his. "You're ridiculous." But somehow, he managed to make your heart lurch. Even bleeding out and halfway dead, he could make your heart rate spike.

He gave a shrug as he threaded the needle and you held onto the gauze for the moment. "You know what they say…" his voice softened when you both heard a familiar voice announcing his presence from the front door—Changmin. Backup was here. "Enemies make the best lovers, do they not?"

"Did it take me almost dying for you to think of that one?"

Changmin rushed in with a full kit in his hands and practically shoved Sunwoo out of the way. You bit on your tongue as the newcomer inspected your wound.

Sunwoo leaned over the edge of the couch and grappled at your hand, his other brushing the sweaty hair out of your face. "We're not done with this conversation, okay? You better not die on me."

You squeezed his hand when Changmin began stitching you up. "Wouldn't dream of it."

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @kflixnet @ericlvr

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honestlydarkprincess · 1 year

Text

to be okay

6x12 coda || word count: 646 || read on ao3

Every morning is the same. Buck wakes up, and doesn’t fully breathe until his phone is in his hand and the message thread with Bobby is open.

morning bobby

Buck can’t breathe, his chest feels tight and his hands shake ever so slightly.

Good morning, Buck

And Buck can breathe again. Bobby is okay. He’s alive and well, probably enjoying a cup of coffee with Athena like Buck knows they do every morning that they can. The knot in his chest unfurls and Buck can move, can start to get ready for the day.

He gets a few steps towards the bathroom, intending to shower, when he doubles back and grabs his phone. Opening his text thread with Eddie, Buck types out a message and presses send.

hey

While Buck waits for a response from Eddie, he opens the next thread in his phone.

morning buddy! i hope you have a great day at school is sent to Christopher and Buck isn��t surprised that Chris is the one who responds immediately.

thanks, buck! can you help me with my science assignment tonight?

of course, bud

Buck is grinning, looking forward to tonight. Normally he, Eddie, and Christopher have dinner on Fridays and watch a movie but since Buck is still on medical leave right now, they’ve been able to have them more frequently. Tonight Buck had promised Chris homemade pizza and he mentally went through his shopping list while he waited for Eddie to respond.

He wasn’t too concerned, Eddie wasn’t known to be quick with replies on text, if you really needed to get a hold of him it was always best to call. But as the minutes ticked by and still no response, Buck began to get worried.

Shit, what if something happened? No, if something was wrong then Chris would have told him— but what if Chris didn’t know? What if something had happened to Eddie while he was sleeping or he slipped in the shower or—

Buck felt himself starting to panic, starting to spiral, and suddenly he was pressing Call on Eddie’s contact and shoving the phone against his ear, heart pounding in his throat.

“‘ello?” Eddie slurred, his voice heavy with sleep.

Buck let out a broken sound, an almost hysterical wave of relief crashing over him and making it so he couldn’t talk.

“Buck?” Eddie asked, now sounding alert. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Buck could hear the rustling of Eddie’s blankets, imagined they were being thrown off as Eddie rushed out of bed.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, sorry, I just— you weren’t answering and I panicked and I couldn’t breathe,” Buck rambled, sitting down on his bed and trying to calm his heart, calm his breathing.

“Hey, hey, I’m right here,” Eddie reassured him softly. “I’m okay. I’m at home with Christopher and both of us are okay. We’re okay.”

“Y-yeah?” Buck gasped out, his body finally starting to relax the more he listened to Eddie’s soothing voice.

“Yeah,” Eddie confirmed. “I promise.”

“Okay, that’s good, that’s— that’s real good,” Buck mumbled, closing his eyes.

They were quiet for a minute, just listening to each other breathe on the line, Buck’s heartbeat finally slowing down.

“Come over,” Eddie said. “We’ll take Christopher out for breakfast and get those stupidly expensive coffee latte frappuchinos you like.”

Buck laughed. “That is not even close to what they’re called.”

Buck could somehow hear Eddie’s smile. “Yeah, but I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Buck sighed, affection clear in his voice. “I’ll be right over.”

“We’ll be here,” Eddie replied and Buck got the feeling he was talking about more than just right now.

Just before Buck got into the shower, his phone beeped again and when he checked it, there was another message from Bobby.

All good?

And Buck didn’t even have to think about it. All good! he sent back.

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randomprose · 8 months

Text

“Tian, come on. You’ve been in your office the whole day.” Guan Shan appears by the doorway with a frown on his face. “I’m leaving for work and you’re still cooped up in here.”

“Cheng wants these documents tonight. I need to finish this.” He Tian runs his fingers through his temple, massaging the pain that’s been pulsating in his head for the past couple of hours. “Don’t worry about me, alright? Take care and drive safe. I’ll probably still be here when you get back,” he mumbles the last part.

“At least turn on the lights here. You’re gonna wreck your eyes working in the dark.”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I work better in the dark.”

“You’re having a headache because you’ve been staring in the screen the whole day in the dark. Why are you—”

“I said I’m fine!” He Tian shouts, head whirling to glare at Guan Shan poised to switch on the lights. The pain has now traveled to the back of his eyes. “Jesus, Guan Shan. I’ll finish sooner if you stop bugging me. Go to work already and leave me to finish mine peace.”

Guan Shan doesn’t say anything but He Tian does catch him working his jaw and the tick of his eyebrow. Telltale signs that he’s pissed. He hears more than sees him leave and on any other time, He Tian would follow him with apologies already falling out of his lips. But this is an important assignment and the sooner he finish it, the sooner he can make up to Guan Shan for being an asshole. He knows he’s only looking out for him and He Tian already feels like a massive cunt for throwing that on his face considering how rare he shows worry.

He Tian waits for the sound of the front door slamming but it never comes. Instead, Guan Shan comes back to He Tian’s office and enters it instead of just lingering in the doorway like earlier.

“Get up,” Guan Shan says, tone harsh. “Get the fuck up.”

He Tian turns to look at him, half sorry but still pissed at being interrupted. He glares, dark eyes hard like granite as he growls, “Mo Guan Shan, I swear to god—

“I said get the fuck up.”

Tonight, Guan Shan has decided he will be the one doing the coaxing.

Guan Shan hauls He Tian up by the arms and he only has time to suck in a sudden breath before next thing he knows he’s being dragged across the hallway and into the living room.

“Momo, I—”

“Shut up,” he snaps and something in his eyes flashes that makes He Tian do just that. He Tian watches as he sits on the corner of the couch, legs crossed, and fluffs one of the throw cushions. Guan Shan places it on his lap and pats it. “Sit.”

He Tian sighs. “Momo, I really don’t think—”

“Will you just do as I say?”

He Tian does and obediently obeys when Guan Shan motions for him to lie his head on his lap.

Guan Shan successfully drags He Tian on their couch, comfortable now after years of use, easily giving and molding into their weight, no longer stiff and hard as when they first bought it.

The moment his head hits the pillow, He Tian lets out a long exhausted groan. A hand automatically comes up to clutch at his head but Guan Shan gently pushes it away and replaces it with his hands instead.

“Headache turning you into a bitch and killing you?”

“Slaughtering me more like,” He Tian sighs as he feels Mo Guan Shang’s fingers carding gently through his hair, massaging his scalp. “I think it’s fully morphed into a migraine now.”

“You want some meds?”

“No, no. I—Tch. The pain is still manageable. I don’t wanna be immune to them when it gets really bad.”

Guan Shan hums and in the next second, He Tian’s nose is assaulted by the smell of mint and camphor as Vicks is rubbed on his aching head. The smell of it relaxes him enough that he doesn’t mind the sticky substance getting in his hair. Not to mention the magic Guan Shan’s fingers are currently performing that’s chasing away his migraine.

“How come you always know what to do?” He Tian rasps, eyes closing amidst Guan Shan’s ministrations.

“I don’t,” Guan Shan scoffs. “This is just simple home remedy shit.”

“You know the important things,” He Tian’s voice has quiet to a mumble, the smell of camphor and the feel of Guan Shan’s fingers slowly but surely lulling him to sleep. “You know how to handle me. You know when not to back down.”

“I’ve had years of practice with your shittiness.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you by the way. I didn’t mean to. It’s just…this assignment Cheng sent me it’s…it’s driving me insane.”

“It’s fine. I know. The migraine is already punishment enough for you.”

“You—” He Tian groans and it peters out to a moan when Guan Shan’s hand travels down, thumbs digging at the base of his skull, down his neck, and spreading out to the top of his shoulders. “You could say that again.”

“You want me to do your back too?”

“No, no. This is fine. I really don’t wanna get up right now. I’m really comfortable.” Another sigh as Guan Shan continues to work out the knots on his shoulders before going back to his temples. “But rain check on that back massage.”

They fall into silence as Guan Shan continues his ministrations, sticking to He Tian’s temples, his neck, and whatever of his shoulders he can reach with him lying down. He Tian slips in and out of consciousness and Guan Shan just lets him. He’s effectively turned He Tian into goo at this point.

“Thanks.” He Tian groggily reaches up and holds one of Guan Shan’s wrists. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“Like I said,“ Mo Guan Shan leans down to plant a kiss on the top of He Tian’s nose, mindful of the Vicks on his forehead. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

He Tian wakes up to the low hum of the TV and Guan Shan’s fingers still gently carding through his hair. The apartment is dark save for the TV and the city lights reflecting from outside. The annoying pulsing pain between his eyes have dispersed. His headache is completely gone.

He smiles to himself as he indulges in Guan Shan’s nimble fingers still scratching at his scalp. Fucking miracle worker.

“I see you’re awake,” Guan Shan says, voice low matching the quietness of the living room. “How’s your head?”

“Fine now.”

Guan Shan is eating chocolate chip cookies straight out of the jar. He Tian opens his mouth for one.

“What time is it?”

“A little past 11 PM.”

“Shit!” He Tian hisses as he sits up. “Cheng’s documents. I—”

“It’s fine, doofus,” Guan Shan says shoving another cookie at He Tian’s mouth “I answered Cheng-ge’s call earlier. Told him you were knocked out. He wants the papers tomorrow by noon.”

“Fuck. How did you manage that?” The initial deadline was tonight.

Guan Shan just shrugs. “Sent him a picture of your sleeping face.”

“You—What?”

Guan Shan pulls his phone and shows He Tian the picture he took of him sleeping on his lap. His mouth is hanging open and it looks like he’s even—

“Fucking hell.” Cheng is gonna use that as ammo against him for at least months. “I’m gonna get you for that.”

“Bring it on, drooly,” Guan Shan smirks muching on another cookie.

“Wait. Aren’t you supposed to go to work? What about that VIP that’s coming tonight? Shit. I’m so sorry, babe. I completely forgot. I was too—”

“Ah, come off it. It’s fine. The restaurant is used to receiving VIPs. They can handle tonight without me.” He rubs his hands and wipes the cookie crumbs off on his sweatpants. “Besides, I don’t even like that guest.”

Guan Shan fixes the pillow on his lap and He Tian takes that as an invitation to unceremoniously slump back into it.

#19 days #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #writing #idk i like domestic tianshan #i think they deserve it #y'all know he cheng is sitting at his desk silently laughing at he tian's drooling sleeping face #he sends it to qiu and they have a laugh about it together #guan shan sends the pic of sleepy drooly tian on their gc and jian yi makes it their pfp #zheng xi calls he tian drooly for a week #old xian

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violetsaffron5 · 8 months

Text

NSFW Gojo Week (2)

Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

Pairing: Gojo x f!Reader

After a stressful week at work, Gojo invites you over to his place to blow off some steam. However, your plans for the night aren't what he expected.

cw: friends with benefits, bondage, brat taming (a little) oral, pussy rubbing, vaginal sex, creampie

words: 3.1k

Masterlist • Day 1 • Day 3

“He fucked up the veil, again.”

You whine, frustrated as you march into Satoru’s office. Ijichi has been getting on your last nerve recently. Within the last two weeks, he has missed putting up several veils and filling out his paperwork wrong.

And each of his fuck ups comes back to you to fix. It has resulted in having to stay late to fix his mistakes all because he’s your “boss.”

Satoru smirks, leaning back in his chair as you sit at the chair across from his desk with a dramatic huff.

“How is he supposed to be over budgeting and assigning missions when he can’t even do his most basic tasks the right way?”

Satoru watches you with an amused expression from under his blindfold, “You know, back in high schoo-”

“And he fucking spilled coffee on me this morning!” You grumble, accidentally cutting Satoru off, before waving your hand in the air absentmindedly at him, “Sorry, continue.”

He chuckles, leaning forward on his desk, holding his chin on his hand, “How about you come over tonight and tell me all about it?”

A smile pulls at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker down to Satoru’s lips briefly before sighing heavily, “I can’t. I have to fix the paperwork. It’s going to take me literal hours.”

“Nah. I’ll make sure Ijichi does it.”

Your brows upturn at his kind gesture, even though you’re fully aware of the ulterior motive behind his actions.

“God, thank you.” You sigh in relief, “If I don’t get my brains fucked out of me this weekend, I am going to drown Ijichi.”

“Bring this same energy tonight, I like it when you’re feisty.”

You roll your eyes because you just know that he winked at you from behind his blindfold, even if you couldn’t see it.

“So, I was thinking-” Satoru begins before being interrupted again by your phone vibrating on his desk.

With a small pout, you check the incoming message, “I have to leave. Taking Nanami to his next mission.”

You don’t miss the way Satoru’s jaw tenses slightly as he nods his head, “My place, around 7?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Before you walk out of his office, you turn to meet his gaze one last time, biting your lower lip and giving a soft, flirty smile before closing the door behind you.

You and Satoru aren’t exactly dating.

Well, you’re not together at all actually. Just casually fucking from time to time.

After work in his office. His place on the weekends. Changing the logs so you’re assigned to assist him with his out-of-town missions.

It’s all just… casual.

You met Satoru when you started working at the school as an Auxiliary Manager, helping handle day-to-day life for Principle Yaga and assisting sorcerers on their missions.

After training for several months, Ijichi decided to take a vacation, stressing that he couldn’t be around Satoru Gojo for another minute otherwise he was bound to rip out all of his hair and lose his shit.

You would have liked to see that, honestly.

You weren’t really sure why he needed a manager to assist him and drive him to his missions but you did it diligently nonetheless and you hit it off immediately, becoming instant friends.

Satoru was quick, handling the mission within a few minutes, and after, the two of you decided to go somewhere local for dinner. He told you how he likes to stress Ijichi out, and didn’t mean for you to get caught up in the fray.

You smiled at him shyly, told him you didn’t mind and that you’ve been having a better time with him than you expected, after hearing all the horror stories Ijichi had.

“Oh, yeah?” You remember him teasing with a smile, removing his blindfold to show his amused, bright azure eyes and you were pretty sure the world stopped moving at that moment. “We could keep having fun. If you want.”

You knew what he meant, you’re not naive. You saw the way his eyes flickered to your slightly parted lips and back up. He’s attractive, more so than you had ever imagined, and you were pretty sure he thought the same about you as he grinned playfully.

Biting your lip, you could feel your cheeks heat the moment you agreed, “Yeah… I’d like that.”

You were sure he was going to make a move on you that night as you stayed at a little hotel on the outskirts of Tokyo, but he didn’t. The two of you started hanging out at work and after - going out for lunch or dinner during your breaks, joking around, and watching movies.

Eventually, the benefits did start, and the benefits with Satoru are good.

Most people would think it’s because of his riches, and the penthouse apartment with a luxurious view of the Tokyo skyline and infinity pool that makes being friends with him so fun, despite his attitude.

He’s cocky, annoying, and can be downright childish at times.

But it’s actually when he’s sinking you down on his cock, and you feel like you’re being split in half by his rough thrusts that makes dealing with him and his antics worth every second.

By the time you’re able to actually leave the office and Ijichi’s clutches, Satoru had already gone home, long before you.

Satoru is quick to answer the door by the time you’ve arrived and knock gently a few times. He’s shirtless, a cocksure grin plastered on his face and in those gray sweatpants you like so much, hanging off his hip showing the sexy ‘V’ from his muscles.

It takes everything in you to smile back with a soft “hi,” kicking off your shoes at the entrance, and not immediately jump into his arms and wrap your legs around his waist.

Not that he would mind. You’ve done it before.

But you do actually want to vent to Satoru about work. He gets it and understands your frustrations. You’d talk to Shoko but she’s always so busy mending everyone’s injuries that it makes your complaints seem really not that bad in the grand scheme of things.

And Nanami… well, frankly he doesn’t give a shit because work sucks no matter where it’s at or what job you’re doing.

You watch as Satoru’s eyes trail your figure before turning around and grabbing two wine glasses from his cabinet, and grabbing the bottle the two of you were drinking from last time you came over from his fridge.

After work, you made a quick stop at home to freshen up and change into something a little easier to remove. And judging by the way Satoru’s eyes keep finding you each time he turns around, you’d venture to guess he’s a big fan of the little dress you put on.

“Did I tell you about the time,” You begin after Satoru fills your glasses, following him to the couch where you sit next to him, sipping on your wine, “Ijichi copied five hundred pages for Yaga but didn’t pay attention to the edges so none of them were aligned? And then Yaga blamed me and I had to spend my entire lunch break fixing it?”

Satoru hums as he watches you take sip after sip when you go into detail about your frustrations. Eventually, he takes the half-full glass from your hand and sets it on the coffee table in front of him before moving you to straddle his lap as you continue to complain.

“That’s crazy,” He murmurs into your neck as you feel his lips ghost around before nipping at a few spots gently.

You sigh, placing your hand on his chest and moving back slightly with a small pout, “You’re supposed to be listening to me complain until I feel better.”

“Thought you wanted me to fuck your brains out.” His eyes flicker between yours and down to your lips several times as he brushes a few strands of hair out of your face and tucks them behind your ear.

“I do, but…” You grab his hands, lacing your fingers together as span his arms along the back of the couch so he can’t touch you. He grins, watching as you giggle, struggling with the slight amount of pushback he’s giving you, “We’re friends, right? Friends listen to each other complain.”

He sighs, rolling his neck while muttering a faint “fine,” before moving his hands to your waist. He does actually listen this time as you continue talking to him, but not without rocking your hips against his ever so slightly.

“I just... I don’t understand how he became the Director,” You roll your eyes and sigh, knowing Satoru doesn’t want to spend the whole night talking about Ijichi of all things. “I feel like I just need to be in control of something for once, you know?”

Satoru grins, hands spanning your waist, letting his thumbs rub just below your breasts, “What’d you have in mind?”

“Well… There is something I’ve been wanting to try.” You bite your lip, looking at him with soft eyes, really unsure of how he’s going to take this request. “I want to tie you up.”

Satoru snorts, letting out a boisterous laugh and looking at you with the most amused expression you’ve ever seen, “Good one.”

“I’m serious. You do it to me all the time, I want to try it. Plus it’s not like you couldn’t easily get out of it if you really wanted to.”

Satoru stares at you, eyes narrowing slightly as he looks at the sincerity of your expression. His ocean-blue eyes flicker around your face, hands on your waist caging you into him.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about your time with Satoru, it’s that he has a hard time resisting when you sweet talk him while fluttering your eyelashes with big doe eyes and a slight pout on your lips.

You’re not sure if he’ll go for it, but with the number of things you’ve let him do to you, you should be allowed to have something every once in a while too.

Just to try it. Once or twice.

Maybe more, if you both like it.

“Alright.” He agrees easily with a sigh, lifting you off his lap and beckoning you to follow him to his bedroom.

“That was easier than I expected,” You mutter when he emerges from his closet with a few silky light blue ropes.

“You’ll be begging me to take control soon enough.” He’s confident, cocky, like always. “Where do you want me?”

You nod towards the bed, he smirks, undressing, his growing length giving away his excitement as he gets on his large bed.

He lays at the top of the bed, moving a few pillows under his neck to give support so he can easily watch you in action.

“Hands up.” You instruct as you climb onto the bed and straddle Satoru’s waist, still fully clothed. He smirks, crossing his wrists and holding them over his head, watching intently as you snake your lower lip between your teeth, concentrating intently on tying the knot and ensuring it’s not too tight.

You didn’t ask for it so you’re a little surprised and excited to see he’s not using his Infinity around his wrists to prevent you from actually tying him up. You’ll have to thank him for that later.

Taking the rest of the rope, you intricately tie several knots along his elbows before moving down to his shoulders, chest, abdomen, and at the base of his groin as he watches with a mischievous smile.

“Been thinking about this for a while, I see.”

“A time or two, yeah.”

Sitting back on your haunches, you admire your work. Not professional by any means, since this is the first time you’ve done anything like this. But it’ll get the job done and serve its purpose. The color of the rope Satoru chose looks great around his pale skin, and the way the ropes are tied around his biceps and abdomen makes his sinewy muscles appear so much bigger.

“Proud of yourself?” He quips when he sees a slight smile growing on your face.

You hum, looking over his neatly tied-up body before meeting his crystalline gaze, “Can I take a picture?”

Satoru frowns deeply at your requests before rolling his eyes and agreeing. Probably thinking about all the photos he has of you he has stored away on his phone.

Scooting off the bed and grabbing your phone, you snap a few photos - little keepsakes of the time Satoru fucking Gojo let you tie him up and ride him like a mechanical bull, should it be the only time he allows this to happen.

As you undress, he watches with awe and appreciation for every dip and curve of your body, and you don’t miss the way his breath hitches slightly as you slowly crawl on the bed to straddle his lap again. With a small chuckle, you place several small kisses on his lips, not letting him deepen them like he normally would.

Instead, you kiss and lick along his jaw and suck a few spots at the base of his neck before leaving littering his shoulders, chest, and abdomen with little red spots where your teeth scraped, marking him as yours.

He can easily heal these at any time, especially after you’re done tonight, but part of you hopes he doesn’t.

Your touch is feather-light, feeling every part of his warm skin, feeling and watching the way each of his muscles contracts as you move them lower on his body until you’re swiping your thumb over his hardened cock.

A smirk spreads across your lips as you look up at him through thick lashes, feeling the precum that’s already leaking from his tip. His pupils are blown, more black than blue as you lean down, licking your lips, and placing several small kitten licks on the tip and underside of his cock.

“Stop fucking teasing me,” He spits while bucking his hips, trying to force you to take his length down your throat.

“Don’t be a brat.” You stare at him with the same icy look he gives you when you whine too much. His brow quirks up and a smirk appears on his lips knowing precisely what you’re doing.

“Can’t handle five minutes with a taste of your own medicine?” You tut disapprovingly. “Pathetic”

Satoru glares at you while you grab his cock, slowly dragging your hand up and down with no intention of speeding up. And with the way he throws his head back with a frustrated huff, you can’t tell if he’s hating this or loving it.

He hasn’t tried breaking free, so you’ll go with the latter for now.

You can tell how badly he wants you, and you need it too - need that release you’ve been craving all week. So you ghost your lips around his skin as you slowly bring yourself up to his lap once again.

A soft gasp leaves your lips as you rub your slick pussy on his cock a few times, letting your neglected click rub against the head of his cock before lining yourself up, bouncing on his tip with a few short bursts.

Satoru watches intently, lips parted with pinkened cheeks waiting, surprisingly patiently, for you to slowly sink yourself down like you have so many times before.

Instead, you take him by surprise, slamming yourself down onto his hips. You both throw your heads back in pleasure while he tugs on the ropes at his wrist in an attempt to touch you.

“Fucking shit,” He groans out in a deep raspy voice.

Sucking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, you give yourself some time to adjust to being filled so completely by him. His chest rises and falls with each breath he takes as you place your hand on his knee, circling your hips against his and placing your other hand on your breast to get the stimulation you’re lacking from his hands being tied.

Usually, Satoru’s voice is deeper, more gravely, and rough with need when you’re fucking. But as he watches you squeeze your breast and pinch your nipple while moaning out so pretty as you bounce on his silky cock, he whines. A higher pitch than you’ve ever heard come from the man below you.

He’s staring at you with wide, pleading eyes. Watching where you’re connected with parted lips that are begging you not to stop.

And you don’t. Only because you might die right now if you did, with the burning sensation that’s quickly forming in the depths of your belly.

Satoru looks so pretty like this. With silk ropes that match his crystalline eyes, the soft pink blush from his cheeks has extended to the tips of his ears and down to his chest.

And god, the whimpers.

Fuck. You should have asked him if you could record this too.

One thing you learned about Satoru very early on in your friendship. He’s not an incredibly patient man. He can be, like how he displayed earlier in the night, but with your plan, you made one fatal flaw.

One he probably realized immediately, yet he let you continue on with your shenanigans. You didn’t tie his legs.

Lifting his knees, you’re forced forward, placing your hands on his chest and stomach, grabbing onto the ropes for dear life as he thrusts his hips, meeting your every bounce.

Skin slapping and moans quickly fill the room as he pistons into your hips at a relentless pace.

“So-so close,” You whine as you lean down and press your lips to his in a series of searing, sloppy kisses.

Your lips are barely moving in sync as you both concentrate on finding your releases, tongues pressed against one another and saliva connecting you both when you manage to pull away.

“Gonna- gonna fuckin’ cum, baby,” Satoru groans, “Gonna fill you up, gonna put a baby in you. You’d like that, yeah? Cause you’re mine?”

“Yes, yes, yes, fill me up, Satoru!” You chant, relenting control, despite you’re insistence on having it in the beginning, “Fill me up, make me yours.”

You both cry out, watching each other's faces contort in pleasure as your walls spasm on his cock so hard it’s like you want to keep him there forever. He can’t help the way he cums, back arching as a loud guttural groan fills the room once his seed is released into your throbbing pussy.

“God damn,” Satoru laughs, easily snapping the ropes with a flick of his wrist, pulling you into his chest. “Ijichi needs to fuck up more often.”

#jjk fanfic #violetsaffronfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #nsfwgojoweek2023

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